


He walks on a flower road

by av_versiera



Category: K-pop, Super Junior
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Family, Friendship, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, Love Poems, M/M, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:54:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23941903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/av_versiera/pseuds/av_versiera
Summary: After an accident that crippled him forever, Hyukjae meets Donghae through a series of unfortunate circumstances. In an era where status and class were valued more than anything, two boys grow up together, pushing the boundaries of what friendship means over years of changes and warfare.
Relationships: Lee Donghae/Lee Hyukjae | Eunhyuk
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	1. year 2005, South Korea

“Hey, babe!” Choi Eunae calls from the kitchen table slash work table. There were papers thrown everywhere, and stacks of books that were well-preserved dating back to the early 1920s.

Eunae jots down a quick note to her journal, recording her findings about the current scroll she is studying. The afternoon light filters through the wide windows of their high-rise loft, illuminating everything in a warm, bronze atmosphere.

“Yes?” Nakamoto Yuta peeks out from the upstairs balcony, a book in hand.

“Can you come here and read this? I just need a confirmation,” Eunae replies, smoothing out the scroll carefully.

Yuta quickly descends down the stairs and comes up by Eunae’s side, peeking over her shoulder to scan the text she is referring to.

“You know Japanese,” Yuta comments, smiling a little as he rests his chin on Eunae’s shoulder.

“Yeah, but these...seem inconsistent with the writing style I came across with this morning,” Eunae leans back to relax against her fiance. “Also, the handwriting is different.”

“When was this sent?”

“Hm, my mom sent them over last week because the museum is currently working on a project to collect things from pre-split Korea, but these...I feel like this can’t be on display,” Eunae explains.

“Why not?” Yuta asks. He comes closer to the table to skim through the other items.

“They’re too personal,” Eunae supplies. She watches her fiance pore over the text in his usual serious expression, meaning that he is actually paying attention.

“You’re right about them not being of the same handwriting,” Yuta points out. “The difference between these is that the language is too rough, while the other one is sophisticated. The ones in korean are also the same, one is really elegant and has style, while the other one is written like a joke.”

Eunae chuckles. “Hey, that’s my grandfather’s handwriting you know.”

Yuta’s forehead wrinkles a little. “Which ones?”

“Well, all of them, but now that you’re confirming these are written with different styles and wording, then there’s proof that my grandfather was not the only author,” Eunae continues. She pulls a chair out and sits on it. “What do you think?”

Yuta lets out a breath and arranges the piles of ancient scrolls and paper according to the differences that they just named. He sits down with Eunae, and together they read through the old poems and the letters written by Eunae’s grandfather, and this other mysterious author.

“Alright…” Eunae yawns and checks the time. It is now past ten pm. “Can we agree that there are two different authors?”

Yuta nods. “I agree. They’re both really distinct.”

“I think that my grandfather had an affair with this other author,” Eunae theorizes, but then chuckles at the thought of it. She does not really know her grandfather since he had died too early for her mother to know, but judging from the stories of her late grandmother, he seemed like the person who only loves once in a lifetime.

“That’s not too far-fetched,” Yuta stretches out his limbs. “Some of them are written like they are a response to each other.”

Yuta takes one of the parchments and gently unfurls them. “Also, look at this. This seems like a letter dating around the 1950s, right after the country’s split. It seems like it was never sent.”

Eunae accepts the brown colored paper, and reads each sentence carefully. “ ‘Eunhyuk-ah, I first saw you down in the river, crying out for help. You were so small then, and so frail, you couldn’t walk and save yourself. I know that you have suffered, and most of your suffering was caused by me. Sending you back home was the best decision for the both of us, but in a few months, I am going to go back so that I can make it right for you. Wait for me.’ “

Eunae takes a deep breath, and sets the paper down on the table. “It was never sent.”

Yuta shakes his head, feeling the weight of the feelings from the letter. “No, never.”

Without any words, the two cleaned up the kitchen table as quickly as they could to turn in for the night. Eunae keeps thinking about the letter, and how it is addressed to another person. It’s not a woman’s name, either. She keeps thinking about the last phrase, “wait for me.” What could it have possibly meant? What happened to her grandfather before his death?

“I’m going to call my mom,” Eunae dives into the bed, where Yuta is already settled in.

Yuta smiles, and he sets his book aside. “Now?” He points at the time. “It’s two am.”

Eunae rolls into his side. “Tomorrow in the morning then, first thing.”

Yuta leans down and plants a kiss on her nose. “Tomorrow.”

-

“Hm,” Lee Hyunjae chirps through the phone. “That’s an interesting find.”

Eunae pads through the stairs carefully, not wanting to wake up her future husband. “Mom, what do you think?”

“Let me ask your father’s father,” Hyunjae replies, her voice not losing its calming tone despite her old age. “He was really close with your grandfather.”

“Oh,” Eunae deadpans. She opens the fridge to begin preparing breakfast. “Mom, can you pass them my email? I’m going to be at the museum all afternoon.”

“Alright, alright. But you know, your grandfather is quite old,” Hyunjae replies. “He’s turning ninety-five this year.”

“Really?!” Eunae exclaims in surprise. She knew her grandfather was old, but not that old. She guesses that it really has been a long time since she has seen him.

“Yeah, so email seems really unconventional.”

Eunae rolls her eyes. “I guess I’ll come over when I have free time.”

“You never have free time, I don’t know how Yuta can stand you,” her mother begins to complain. “I want you to get married, but at this rate…”

“Mom,” Eunae interrupts. “Yuta loves me and respects my time. And I do make time for him.”

“But not for your biological family?”

Eunae sighs exasperatedly. “Mom, I literally just saw you and dad last week for dinner.”

“Guess we’re getting old and we’ll never really matter to you,” Hyunjae continues but with a teasing tone. “You’re just going to put us in a nursing home.”

Eunae frowns, trying to think how in the world did their conversation turn like this. “Mom, I have to go. And if this is your way of begging for grandchildren, will you please, please be patient? I’m literally getting married in a few months.”

Hyunjae chuckles, finally letting her daughter off the hook. “Alright, alright. Seize the day. Tell your grandfather that your father and I are saying hello.”

“Okay,” Eunae hangs up, and she sighs wearily.

-

Yuta accompanies Eunae to her grandfather’s home by the countryside, far from the city of Seoul. The drive took about two to three hours, but it seems like it passed over Eunae’s head in a blink of an eye. She remembers her childhood in her grandfather’s home. It was always so full of laughter and fun. She wonders when she even stopped coming over, and started thinking more independently. Her mother is right on some things. No one really in her family believed she would even find someone to settle down with as her life was always filled with more education and work.

She remembers meeting Yuta five years ago in Osaka, Japan, when the two of them were in the same graduate program about researching old artifacts and studying old texts from history. She fell head over heels with him, and the rest was history. She wasn’t pretty surprised her parents approved of him, given her mother’s Japanese background, but they did worry about the two of them since discrimination against Koreans with a Japanese bloodline are still happening.

Choi Eunae never really cared about that. She loves this man she will get married to, and if it calls for it, the two of them will move away and start new.

Eunae and Yuta bowed deeply in front of her grandfather, who clearly looks pleased at their actions.

“ _Hal-a-beo-nim_ ,” Eunae says, bowing by the waist for the last time.

“Choi Eunae,” Choi Siwon greets with a light chuckle. “Last I saw you, you were just about to graduate from high school.”

Eunae smiles, although it was a little forced and regretful. “Grandfather, I'm really sorry for that.”

“I’m just kidding with you,” Siwon gestures towards the sofa. “What brings you here? Your father said you had questions about your lineage?”

Eunae glances at Yuta, who is carefully bringing out the documents that they were studying a few days ago.

“I’m not sure, but this is my grandfather’s stuff,” Eunae elaborates. “But I also found some that aren't his. Also this letter is addressed to an Eunhyuk?”

Siwon’s face darkened a little bit at the name.

“You know him?” Eunae treads with caution.

“Of course I do,” Siwon replies, his voice tight. “He’s still alive.”

Eunae gasps in delight. “I want to meet him!”

Siwon studies his granddaughter, his already wrinkled forehead folding in distress. “I’m not going to stop you, but you should know a few things.”

“What’s that?”

“He’s crippled, has been since he was little, and your grandfather and him were very, very close,” Siwon replies. “But, a lot of bad things happened between them, and ultimately, led to their separation forever.”

Eunae is starting to grow excited. “Where can I meet him?”

Choi Siwon’s eyes widened in surprise. “You are serious?”

“Of course!”

-

Eunae leaves Yuta with her grandfather, and drives down a half hour to a nursing home. She is excited to meet a friend of her grandfather’s from her mother’s side, and not only that, they were a part of history. This friend of her grandfather's-Eunhyuk or Lee Hyukjae as her other grandfather said-had a high status in society back then and she would like to know more. She wants to know how life was back then, and what were his experiences during the time Korea was under Japan’s rule. She thinks of this as research, but personally, she is thrilled that she is somehow related to this. That her family is involved in so many big things, and that even now, the way they live their lives are related to what happened to them in the past.

In the nursing home, she is directed to a room at the end of a hallway. Eunae sees it become a little dimmer, and feels the gloominess that is seeping through the walls. She forgets her initial excitement and becomes more thoughtful as she is led to Lee Hyukjae’s room.

“Mr. Lee, you have a visitor,” the nurse knocks on the open door.

Eunae is taken aback to see an old man seated on a wheelchair. He is facing the window, where the spring’s cherry blossoms are in full bloom. His shoulders droop down, as if they are fastened to heavy anchors on the ground. When he turned his head, it was as if he had all the time in the world.

“A visitor?” He seems to laugh. In this world, no one really knows him. He has nobody left.

“Her name is Choi Eunae? She said she is Choi Siwon’s granddaughter,” the nurse informs.

Lee Hyukjae lets out a sigh and it sounds like he is exhaling for the first time in a hundred years. “Ah…”

“Hello,” Eunae greets politely.

“Come in,” Lee Hyukjae finally says, and he turns his wheelchair around, each action performed with ease, as if he has been born with the knowledge and skill to do them.

The nurse leaves them alone, and Eunae stares at Hyukjae in wonder. Then, realizing that she is probably being rude, she looks down at her folded hands.

“Um, I’m sorry to disturb you, but...I found this among my grandfather’s things,” Eunae starts. “I came here to know more about my family's past.”

She gets a little nervous, and she has to fight herself to keep her fingers from shaking. She knows she has a knack of being clumsy and she cannot afford to do that in front of someone important.

Eunae takes out the letter that was addressed to him, and presents it to him with respect. Her other hand is just underneath her arm that was handing the letter to him, the way she was taught when she was learning manners at a young age. It was highly valued in her family, after all.

“You have manners, child,” Lee Hyukjae remarks.

Eunae bows her head slightly. “Thank you.”

Lee Hyukjae glances at the letter, and suddenly, it seems like his breath has stopped. They share a pregnant silence, and the air tightens around them as if a vacuum was siphoning all the available oxygen out of the room.

“Who are you?” Lee Hyukjae finally asks, letting out a tired sigh.

Eunae notes that his eyes seem to get a little teary. His face bears an ancient expression that she can only begin to comprehend. The lines on his face seem to get deeper, as if they were scars of the past. They were the only witnesses to his plight, after all.

“I’m Choi Eunae,” she responds.

“And your family?”

“My father is Choi Minho, and my mother is Lee Hyunjae,” Eunae continues, but she wants to stop. It looks like Hyukjae is about to burst out crying in front of her, but he holds his tears back, and there is a certain ancient elegance and pride etched on his skin, one that cannot be practiced routinely.

“You’re Lee Donghae’s granddaughter,” Lee Hyukjae finishes. He looks away, and he stares at the cherry blossoms outside his window. Finally, a tear escapes his eye.

Eunae panics, and she searches for something to wipe his tears away. She can only procure her handkerchief.

“I’m sorry if I disturbed you,” Eunae says hastily. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, or bring up painful memories, I’m so sorry, I will just go and leave-”

Hyukjae dabs on his eye, and he folds the handkerchief neatly on his lap. “No, stay. I would like to know more about you, Choi Eunae.” He smiles at her, and Eunae notices the way it immediately brightens up his face. “It seems you came with questions. I hope I can answer them, but I am very old and I may not remember everything.”

Eunae nods, understanding. “If it’s not too much, may I know more about my grandfather? What was he like, what was his life like, what did he do-”

Hyukjae chuckles, clearly endeared. “You have his temperament.”

Eunae stops, and she blinks at the compliment. “Thank you?”

Hyukjae nods, and he glances back down at the letter. “I do not know where to begin.”

Eunae shrugs, offering an amicable atmosphere in which they can be comfortable in if Hyukjae chooses to take.

“How about, the beginning?” Eunae suggests, taking out her journal to jot down some notes.

Hyukjae looks away from her, and he runs a finger on the letter. A cloudy expression passes over his face, but what comes out of it is a softening of his eyes and the slight smile his mouth is pulling upwards. His tense shoulders have relaxed, and then, he lets out a small laugh.

“Alright, alright, I’ll start,” Hyukjae says, his voice changing to a more jovial sound. “You better pay heed to my words, child. It is a long story.”

Eunae chuckles. “I have all day.”

And then, Lee Hyukjae goes back to the beginning of Lee Donghae's story, and to his very own beginning as well. He looks at Choi Eunae, who bears Donghae's childish eyes, and he wonders if life will ever be done with him. It has surely wrought a lot of pain on him, as if he is just an expendable bucket for collecting each affliction. He supposes it is sometimes true, as he always manages to survive every catastrophe that time brings him.

When will he be ever free, he wonders.

Even at this age, _he_ comes to him, haunts his memories.

However, a part of him never wants to forget. He will always treasure each memory with him, for each moment of happiness and sadness have taken its place on the ridges of his heart. They let Donghae live in him, and as long as he lives, their story lives on.

_Wait for me_ , this letter Lee Donghae had composed for him tells him.

If only he knew how long.


	2. years 1920-1930, Korea under Japanese Colonial Rule

Ten years have passed since Korea’s last emperor had ruled. Ten years have passed, since Lee Hyukjae, a child whose smile can rival the sun was born. He was a happy child, with healthy flushed cheeks and maybe too much teeth that reflects the joyfulness that only his upbringing could buy. Hyukjae was a blessed child, and that’s what everyone believed and had said when he was born. It didn’t matter that their country is living through a dark time, Hyukjae’s family believed that he was destined for something great. His younger years were the training grounds for that unspoken purpose his parents had trusted him with. 

Days passed by him pleasantly and well, blissfully. Often, he strolls the streets with his servants. He is inside his palanquin, with his sliding window that he can open anytime he chooses. He and his servants went one way, while those who were hurrying to their jobs went the other to prepare for a day’s labor. In the streets, there were men in American clothing, with their gentlemanly tailored coats. There were also Japanese officers lurking the streets, keeping guard. 

A trolley, run by electricity, passes by, its loud horn tooting to warn the people on the streets. Hyukjae peeks out in excitement, watching the trolley pick up passengers. Opening his window wider, he peeks out towards Jungsoo, who is walking slightly behind him. 

“I’m going to step out!” Hyukjae announces giddily. 

The servants carrying his palanquin sets him down, and Hyukjae tumbles out. He laughs as he prances around the streets. Those who recognize him greet him and even bow to him, and Hyukjae acknowledges them, all smiles and cheeks puffed out. 

He makes a beeline for a stall selling sweets, but before he can make it, a carriage passes by and he is run over. 

Hyukjae wails, and he bawls like the world has ended. Everything hurt to the point that he could almost feel nothing. But still he cried, as people rushed and surrounded him. Some Japanese officers were breaking out the gathering crowd, and Jungsoo hurried to him, his heart clenching from fear. 

Hyukjae cries from the shock, from his tiny notion that the tiny pieces of his broken bones are floating around under his skin, never to be repaired again. He feels heavy, and he screams when his servant, Jungsoo, slides an arm under his legs. He screams anyway, because he feels like he is bleeding and he never did like blood anyway.

Even if it was just a cut, he would still squirm. 

This hurt more than a cut. 

The irony was, the sun was shining so brightly. It ignored him, despite being deemed the brightest light in people’s lives. 

-

Hyukjae is a teenager, when he starts to notice his parents’ sad eyes towards him. He had lost his legs, and all he brought to the people around him was darkness, as if their pain is so much more than him. He lost a huge part of him, but even his legs were not exactly his. It was his parents’ and his ancestors.’ They all had a right to his body-to that mysterious purpose that he was supposed to be destined for. 

What purpose, Hyukjae ponders. He has all the time now, and he spends it idly, wondering what purpose was it, that it gets run over by an unassuming carriage of some Japanese official, taking his legs along the way as complementary. 

Everything he was built for was gone, like leaves on an autumn tree, windswept and with no grip. There was no fight. 

It was just gone. 

Hyukjae can only lament at this, and maybe he will forever carry the burden of his family's miserable eyes on him. 

-

Hyukjae keeps his eyes on the food in front of him, while the other servants wait around him in silence. He tries to finish the dishes that the servants had laid out in front of him-the proportioned bowl of rice, the fresh side-dishes and the main meal fresh out of the kitchen-but he can barely chew and keep his food down. Jungsoo sits by his side, eyes trained away and hands abstained from the table since he is not allowed to dine with him. He will later eat with his fellow servants in another room, away from the eyes of the nobles they serve. 

Hyukjae puts down his utensils, and Jungsoo reaches for them to take them away when Hyukjae takes his hand. 

“Eat, hyung,” Hyukjae quietly tells him. He holds Jungsoo’s hand with warmth. 

Jungsoo’s eyes widened and meets Hyukjae’s sad eyes-too sad for a boy his age, an age fit for running around under the sky and playing games that involved other boys his age. It has also been a while since Hyukjae has uttered more than a word. 

“Okay.”

Hyukjae nods, and doesn’t acknowledge Jungsoo when he bows at him. 

After he eats, Hyukjae resigns by putting his utensils down and pushing his plate away. Jungsoo stops eating immediately and rushes him to his quarters so that he can read or write poems, or read some more. After the accident, it seems like all the time in the world is for his leisure only. Nothing hard, just read some more, just write some more, maybe think in between-but sometimes that is a bad idea. 

It is unbearable, but Hyukjae is coming to terms about it. He lost his legs, and maybe he also lost a good future, but at least, he has his mind. 

A mind full of ideals from a fading class hierarchy but no one tells him anything. The world is losing its mind, so maybe it is up to him to remember everything. 

What the adults don’t tell him is that the world he knew is slowly breaking apart. Like his legs, in which he still believes that little pieces of bones are still floating around, but that’s a horrible comparison. 

Hyukjae knows that there are a lot more Japanese officers around. He knows that there are riots happening, but in the bouts of the day, it’s more peaceful, with the occasional person walking by just outside his house. 

Sometimes he will be tempted to call out to them, to make them exhaust their every word just so he can hear and imagine what is happening outside his home. 

He rarely travels out unless it’s to a relative’s home, or the once in a blue moon trips to candy shops and bookstores. 

Recently, or as much as he can remember, the Japanese language is the new trend. Japanese money too, but from where he comes from, that would not be hard to acquire. At least for people like himself. Japanese culture is trying to impede their set values and morals too, but it’s unlikely for people to change especially when the way they are has been embedded in their blood for hundreds and even thousands of years. 

Hyukjae reckons two worlds will crash. Some people are already getting ready for this, as they ally themselves with foreign officers and gain favors from them. Some, especially those who have no power, are resisting and turning away anyone who isn’t from their country. 

Everyday, troops from different nations are being mobilized. The ground they walk on lays the groundwork for the tensions that are about to rise. 

Hyukjae is fifteen years old. He is still unable to walk. 

-

One of his servants, Youngwoon, is seated across him, scrutinizing the board game in front of them. Hyukjae hides a smile as he moves another piece directly in front of his piece unknowingly, and when Youngwoon exclaims in pretend indignation, he finally lets out a small giggle. 

“Hyung, you made it too easy,” Hyukjae chirps. He moves the pieces on the board to restart the game.

Youngwoon shoots him an amused look, his eyes wrinkling at the corners. “Young master is simply a genius and I am no match for him.”

Hyukjae rolls his eyes, faking his exasperation. “Please. I lost too many bets that included you. Nothing surpasses your intuition.”

Youngwoon lets out a loud laugh, that sends the servants in the front yard to look at them. He quiets down, but he winks at Hyukjae. “I am humbled that you think of me this way. It is now past noon, I shall fetch Jungsoo to get your lunch.”

Hyukjae nods, and he opens his book of poems that was just hiding underneath the table. 

_As soon as it breaks through_

_Does not the moon again_

_Chase the clouds across the sky?_

_In the azure depths of the stream_

_Shines the image of Kiparang_

_And so i seek the mirror of his soul_

_Beneath the waters on the river’s pebbled bed._

_Just like the high pine branches_

_The hwarang shrugs off the winter snow._

Hyukjae takes a deep breath, and he flips to another page. Footsteps pad towards him, but without looking, he knows that it is Jungsoo. 

“You seem deep in thought, young master,” Jungsoo finally says after a few moments of silence. 

Hyukjae looks up, and he meets Jungsoo’s every cheerful eyes. Jungsoo had always smiled at him, in that special way of his, with the dimples framing his mouth. He had never shown disdain or had ever looked at him with pity. 

“There is much to think about,” Hyukjae replies. He flips at another page mindlessly.

Jungsoo waits, but Hyukjae does not speak again. He simply picks up his utensils and starts to eat quietly. 

Hyukjae thinks, instead of the sun, he is much like the moon. Mellowed and quiet, pushing through the darkness. He will keep pushing the clouds to see clearly, but sometimes it overshadows him, hiding him. These days, he has been spending too long behind the confines of his home. 

“Hyung, I think I want to go outside today,” Hyukjae announces after he finishes his meal. 

Jungsoo is surprised at Hyukjae’s sudden proposition, but he follows his wishes nonetheless, calling for Youngwoon to prepare the palanquin. 

-

In the bustle of the streets that Hyukjae used to frequent, there is also a boy that is his age, running around all day under the sun with his straw slippers. He is used to running since his jobs required that of him, whether he is a newspaper boy earning a few cents, an errand boy for businesses in the markets, or a delivery boy that carried buckets of water to people. He is always busy, even at such a young age, working so that he and his family can eat. 

Lee Donghae is born from a slave family, but since some nobles have let go of their slaves a long time ago, he is a free man. Still, being free does nothing for him. He is still at the very bottom, always struggling to make do with what he has. In no time, he knows he will either end up in some mine like his brother, or a fisherman like his late father was. His mother is a launderer for nobles, but he knows she is often mistreated because she comes from a low class. It is up to Donghae to make sure that his mother can live comfortably in the future and for that to happen, he needs to work hard. 

Lee Donghae hates the nobles. He hates them with a passion, and he uses that to motivate himself to be something more. He knows that it is probably meaningless to hope for something more, and that he will probably die poor, but he knows times are changing. The rich will not always stay rich. Surely, there is a way. 

For now, he must bid his time. 

Sometimes, at night, Donghae sneaks out to look at the stars. He goes to his usual spot up the hill, where he keeps a pack of stolen cigarettes and matches. From here, he can observe the whole city. No one finds him here, not even the guards that watch the streets to enforce their curfew. He doesn’t think much, for he moves all the time. However, he does admire the moon and the stars. It is free to look at them, after all. 

He lights a cigarette, the match quickly dying after it does its job. He blows the smoke up in the air, letting the scent waft up to his nose. 

There is always tomorrow for him.

-

Hyukjae peeks out the window of his palanquin, observing the outside world. He studies a few faces that pass by, and even spots a young man balancing buckets of water on his shoulders, hurrying to his destination. He notices his straw slippers, and how dirty his feet had become. Hyukjae looks away from this, and he slides his window close. After a few minutes, he draws it open again and he calls for Jungsoo. 

“Can we go to a peaceful spot? Maybe like, by a river?” Hyukjae asks. 

Jungsoo tells the other servants to follow Hyukjae’s request, and then leans over. “Is something wrong?”

Hyukjae fidgets with the hem of his silk sleeve, and then looks at Jungsoo again. “Nothing is wrong.” 

A few moments later, the palanquin is set down to the ground, and Youngwoon helps him out. He is then carried on Youngwoon’s back, while Jungsoo follows behind them to make sure that Hyukjae does not accidentally fall off. 

Hyukjae observes the small river and spots a flat rock where he can sit and watch the water flow. 

“There!” Hyukjae points with his folded notebook of his poems. 

Youngwoon and Jungsoo pause, unsure if they really should place Hyukjae there. 

“Young master, perhaps another spot might benefit you,” Jungsoo suggests. 

Hyukjae shakes his head. “Please? I think that spot is perfect.” 

Jungsoo sighs, knowing that there is nothing that can dissuade Hyukjae once he makes up his mind. Youngwoon carefully veers off the path, and heads down a rockier one so that he can place Hyukjae to his chosen destination. Jungsoo follows like a mother hen, scolding Youngwoon for every step he makes. Finally, after so much fuss and Hyukjae’s occasional giggle, they arrive at the flat rock and seats Hyukjae there. 

The two linger, watching as Hyukjae fish out a writing utensil and its ink from inside his jacket. 

Hyukjae turns to his servants. “I can’t write with you two watching me.”

Jungsoo and Youngwoon stare at him, a little uneasy with the idea of leaving him alone. 

“What?” A corner of Hyukjae’s mouth draws up to show a small, but playful smile. “With my condition, I don’t think I will be going anywhere.”

Youngwoon sighs. “Alright, young master.”

“I will be here for a while. Please go fetch me something to eat,” Hyukjae requests, already opening his book to a blank page. 

His servants leave, and Hyukjae watches the clear waters below him. He smiles at the sight, and he takes a deep breath. The trees rustle around him, and occasionally, a bird flies by, cawing into the open air. No one bothers him for a while, and these are the moments that he is content with being left alone. Solitude is easier with his poems. It is easier to think because time does not demand anything from him. 

Hyukjae moves a little, but it knocks the ink container out of his reach. Cursing in his mind, he reaches for it, but he also manages to knock off his notebook into the river. 

“No,” Hyukjae whispers in disbelief. 

Not wanting to alarm his servants, he uses his arms to bring him closer to the river bank. It was a long and hard feat, but he is able to reach it, despite the rocks that he had to maneuver over. He reaches for his notebook, which is quickly absorbing water, but his fingers end up pushing it farther from him. 

Hyukjae wants to scream in frustration but that is unbecoming of him. He will not cry out for help. He can do this himself. 

Hyukjae dives forward without thinking, and the cold water swallows him up. It is unexpectedly deep, but he manages to get a hold of his notebook. His arms wave frantically up the surface, and he sinks. 

For a moment, Hyukjae does not really fight back, but it is getting harder to breathe. 

_Damn my legs, damn them, damn, damn-_ Hyukjae thinks. _This is how I will die._

He must have let out a yelp or some sort of cry because he is immediately pulled up, and dragged into the riverbank. Hyukjae coughs, and water drips down his face and his body, making him shiver from a passing cool breeze. 

Hyukjae is now aware that there is someone close to him that he does not know. He sees their feet, notices the straw slippers and his calloused, tanned skin. He slowly gazes up, but then he looks away. 

The person clicks their tongue. “As expected of you nobles. Even though your fashion is fading away, you still hold onto these unnecessary mannerisms. I should’ve let you drown.”

Hyukjae lets out a breath. Something about this person’s snide tone stirs something in him. Something close to the feeling of being insulted. He is suddenly annoyed. 

“You didn’t have to save me,” Hyukjae snaps back. 

“A thank you would have been nice,” he immediately replies in the same, indignant tone. “Is it so bad to even spare me a glance?” 

Hyukjae continues to keep his gaze away, but something about this person’s tone irks him. Is he not supposed to be respected? This person needs to be taught a thing or two. Hyukjae looks up, and he is startled to see a pair of dark eyes, full of life and his current emotion: annoyance. 

“I am sorry,” Hyukjae finally says. “I did not mean to be ungrateful. Thank you for saving me.”

“How can you just let yourself drown like that? It’s not even that deep, a person like you could easily stand up and walk out,” he grabs Hyukjae’s arms to help him stand up. 

Hyukjae fights to pull them away. 

“What’s the matter with you?” The boy snaps impatiently. 

“I can’t walk,” Hyukjae almost shouts. He has never been provoked like this. It hurts his heart a little. 

“Gods, can you get any more pitiful?” The boy mutters under his breath, and without any more preamble, he takes Hyukjae and heaves him on his back. “Where are your servants?” 

“I sent them away.”

“Are you an idiot?” 

Hyukjae wishes he has some function over his legs so that he can kick this person silly. “Shut your mouth.”

“I don’t want to. I have a mouth, and it will talk,” the boy replies back defiantly. He carefully steps up the rocks to bring him towards the path that has been worn down by many passersbys. 

Hyukjae stays silent at this. He does not really know what to do about strangers. He can’t really read them since he is always surrounded by the same people. 

“Why can’t you walk?” 

Hyukjae is again taken aback by the bluntness of this person. He is not careful with his words. He simply shoots whatever is on his mind. 

“I’m paralyzed. I was ran over by a carriage.”

At this, the person stays silent. Perhaps he is starting to feel bad for this privileged kid. “Anyways, I wouldn’t have let you drown. My parents taught me better than that.”

Hyukjae’s mind starts to whirl, and for the first time in a while, he wants to talk and ask more questions. However, he is tired. This person who just came out of nowhere with his loud actuations is making his head hurt. He is unprepared to deal with his type of temperament. Hyukjae is patient, and he is taciturn most of the time. This person is brash, and the type to talk as if every word falls on deaf ears. 

“Young master!” Jungsoo calls in alarm from far away. 

Youngwoon and Jungsoo run towards them, their faces pale and etched with worry. 

A few petals of cherry blossoms cascade down the path, and one falls on the top of the person’s head. Hyukjae plucks it off of him without him noticing. 

-

_When I look back upon all our past springs,_

_I helplessly weep in my sorrow,_

_On your face where beauty had shone,_

_The toll of the years kept mounting,_

_If only once more, if just for an instant_

_We could be together again,_

_Taemal, my lord! Now my grieving heart_

_Spends its nights in the weed-strewn wilderness._

It has been many days since Hyukjae has met that rude boy. As always, he spends his time reading and composing poems that will never see the light of the day. He keeps to himself, thinking of the boy every now and then. He is not sure if he feels glad about his encounter with him. He does know that he does not like being addressed in such a disrespectful way. That was honestly his first time being treated as such and it does not make him feel good. 

He studies the poem that he just read a moment ago. He feels the longing of the writer and their sadness over the separation that they endured from their lover, but he also cannot understand it. Who will even burden themselves with such feelings if there is no hope for them to be together? 

“What has gotten you so glum, my son?” His father sits down right beside him. They watch people pass by their gate, going about their day. 

“Nothing,” Hyukjae replies. 

His father sighs heavily. “Hyukjae...your mother and I have visited the matchmaker many times this year for your potential wife.”

Hyukjae’s eyes darken at the mention of having a wife. He knows better. 

“I’m sorry, Hyukjae. Times are difficult these days.”

Hyukjae takes a deep breath, and he straightens his back. He is stoic, retreating into his mind to process this reality. He knows too well that he will never hold a good place in society. He is a lame boy, and he will continue to be lame in the future. No wife will want him, and no other family will shoulder the weight he carries except his own. 

He knows too well. He is not unaware of these things. He is not as clueless, even though he fills his mind with scriptures and poetry. 

He feels bad that he will not be able to do something more to honor his parents. 

For someone who follows the high class’s mannerisms and morals down to the bone, he is unable to fit in and live a life that is expected of him. He is only lucky that he is well taken care of because of the family that he is born in. 

Perhaps, that boy he met days ago will laugh at him. 

That will be okay with him. At least he does not look at him with such solemn and hopeless gaze. 

-

There is commotion in the streets one day, and Hyukjae feels impatient. He wants to know what has gotten people so excited. Is this kind of event even allowed? He does know that the Japanese has been very hard on them, even raining punishments to those who disobey their law, but maybe they have started to loosen up. 

Hyukjae feels jittery, and he is itching to get out of his house. He wishes his will is enough to even make him walk, but that is not possible. 

Something catches his eye outside his gate, and immediately, he calls out. 

“Oi!” He shouts, nevermind that it sounded so constrained. 

The person stops, and Hyukjae widens his eyes. “You!” He fires. 

The person scowls, obviously unhappy to meet this boy again. Scoffing, he starts to walk away. 

“Wait!” Hyukjae calls out desperately. “Please!” 

The person walks back, and appears in front of him again. “What is it? I’m kinda in a hurry.”

“Can you take me to where the people are going?” Hyukjae pleads. 

The person stares at him incredulously. “Excuse me? Do you think I’m some kind of human carriage?” 

Hyukjae wants to come over there and wring this person by the neck. Why is he so impossible to talk to? Why is he always so rude and rough? 

Hyukjae scans his surroundings, thinking that maybe there is something he can bribe him with, but nothing is befitting for his request to him. His eyes land on his books, his papers, the ink on his desk and his writing utensil. 

“Carry me there, and in exchange, I will teach you how to read and write,” Hyukjae proposes. He keeps his gaze straight, unwavering. He is sincerely giving him all he has.

Suddenly, the boy’s gaze towards him changes. It is smoldering, as if he is angry and considering to come over and beat Hyukjae up. It is also hungry, like a flame eating up a paper. It wants more, and it will take more than he is offering.

“Are you serious?” The boy snaps, although he sounds a little excited. 

Hyukjae is taken aback. “Of course, I’m serious! I really will, I swear on my life!” 

“You’re going to get me in trouble!”

“You won’t! I promise!” 

“Fine!” The boy loudly exclaims and he marches over towards Hyukjae. 

Hyukjae turns to his papers, jots down a few words and uses a heavy object to keep his note from flying away. Then, he is helped onto the other boy’s back. 

“You better keep your word,” the boy finally said. “I will come every day so that you do.”

“Deal,” Hyukjae giggles. 

“None of this is really funny.”

“No, but are you always like this?”

“To people like you, yes.”

“You are so rude,” Hyukjae scolds. “No one ever dares to talk to me this way.”

“Great, get used to it. This is how we talk in the real world.”

Hyukjae sighs, and he looks down, noticing the satchel on his hip. “What’s that?” 

“My job.”

“Oh,” Hyukjae deadpans. He feels a little miffed at how this boy makes him feel so dumb. He is not. 

“You’re so stupid,” the boy comments. 

Offended, Hyukjae lands a hit on his shoulder. “I will have you know, I am well-versed in poetry, music and the arts. I can solve arithmetic, and I know a lot about the stars-”

Hyukjae suddenly stops. This is the most he has talked with someone. 

“What? Are you going to brag some more, Your Highness?” The boy asks mockingly. 

“Shut up.” Hyukjae is suddenly exhausted. Do people talk so much like this on a normal basis? 

They stay quiet for a while, and they follow the crowd. It is only a brief performance of some musicians, and the crowd had scattered almost immediately. Hyukjae is somehow a little glad that he is able to witness a crowd gathering. 

“What is your name?” Hyukjae asks as they head back to his home. 

“What is _your_ name?” The boy shots back. 

“I am Lee Hyukjae.”

“Lee Donghae.”

Hyukjae snickers. “East Sea?”

“What? Does it sound too much like a servant’s name?”

“No,” Hyukjae confesses. “It’s just you’re named after the Sea of Japan.”

“Well, if you haven’t noticed…” Donghae trails off. It makes sense. They are a country subjugated by the land of the rising sun. 

“Can you be a little nicer?” Hyukjae asks. “We are friends now, right?”

Donghae rolls his eyes. “You can’t honestly expect everyone to treat you nicely.”

“Why not?”

Donghae sighs, sounding like he is about to drop Hyukjae on the ground. “Clearly, you’ve been reading the wrong things.”

Hyukjae goes silent at this. 

They arrive at Hyukjae’s house, where they spot Jungsoo in the yard, looking very worried and upset. 

Hyukjae cringes, and when he is settled on the front porch, he gives Jungsoo an apologetic smile. 

“He is my friend!” Hyukjae announces. 

Donghae stands in front of them, uneasy. He bows to them, even though his whole body refuses to. Then, he turns to leave. 

“Tomorrow, then?” Hyukjae calls after him. 

Donghae pauses and he turns to face Hyukjae. Somehow, he is not irked by his presence. 

He nods, and then he runs out of the courtyard because he still has to attend this job. 

-

The next day, Donghae comes early. A few servants stared at him curiously, but Hyukjae received him with warmth and excitement. He has not had a visitor his age before. His breakfast has been laid out before him, and he urges Donghae to eat with him. He knows that it is uncharacteristic of him as a noble to eat with the lower class, but Donghae is his friend. He will treat his friend with kindness. 

Donghae eats quietly, unable to turn down Hyukjae’s food. He is a little angry for himself for giving in, for being so easily persuaded. He feels guilty that his family cannot eat this kind of food. 

“What is it?” Hyukjae asks after a while. 

Donghae shakes his head, and he finishes every grain of his rice. He cannot afford to waste food. He looks at Hyukjae’s leftovers with distaste and he takes them for himself to finish it. Hyukjae gapes at him, wondering what has gotten into him. No one just casually reaches for his plate. Perhaps Donghae acts on a different set of rules. 

After the food has been cleared away, Hyukjae flattens out a long piece of paper in front of him. Donghae watches him write Korean characters on the crisp surface. He only knows how to recognize his name. He is blind to the other words. 

“There, that is your name in Korean,” Hyukjae announces proudly. “Try to copy it.” 

Hyukjae hands Donghae his brush, and arranges his fingers to accommodate the writing utensil. 

“Lee.” Hyukjae guides Donghae’s hand. 

“Dong.” With each stroke, he moves Donghae’s hand up and down. “Hae.”

Donghae tries writing his name on his own, and he does it several times. 

Hyukjae smiles at the big blocks of letters on the paper. “Here, now try my name.”

Hyukjae writes down his name, and he lets Donghae study it. Donghae cannot read them, but he tries to memorize the characters of Hyukjae’s name. Hyukjae guides Donghae’s hand again, each stroke a struggle since Donghae is resisting him a little. Sensing that he wants to do it on his own, Hyukjae produces another sheet of paper and lets him write their names down. 

“Tomorrow, we will learn the alphabet,” Hyukjae announces. 

“Why can’t we learn them now?” Donghae blurts out. He is frustrated at his horrible penmanship, but he also cannot wait to learn more. 

“Just take it slow,” Hyukjae replies. “You need time to memorize them.”

“By tomorrow, I’ll have these names ingrained in my mind,” Donghae proclaims with determination. 

Hyukjae lets out a laugh, and it surprises him. He really has not genuinely laughed before. 

“Alright, but be careful. You know it’s dangerous to be carrying around something that is korean,” Hyukjae warns. 

Donghae rolls his eyes. “I know. I’m not an idiot.”

Donghae sets out before noon, telling Hyukjae that he still has to work. 

Tomorrow is a promise, and Hyukjae is looking forward to it for the first time. 

-

Tomorrow arrives, and Donghae is walking the streets early to make his way towards Hyukjae’s home. As promised, he already has his name and Hyukjae’s name memorized. Throughout the day when he was carrying his jobs, he drew the characters over every surface he can encounter with his finger repeatedly. Now, he is excited to learn more. 

He still kind of dislikes Hyukjae, mostly because he has everything he will ever need. His pale skin never sees the sun for a long time, while he is out all day, laboring. 

However, he finds himself looking forward to their meeting. He never had friends before. Of course, there are the other children like him, but they are all competing for the same things so he ends up quarreling with them. 

Hyukjae must have never fought with anyone, Donghae thinks. The thought makes him giggle to himself. 

It is also enjoyable to bully him a little. He is so naive. 

The day starts with them having breakfast again, and then transitions to the learning of the korean alphabet. 

Hyukjae draws several characters for him, and Donghae recognizes that they are not all the characters. He complains about it and Hyukjae gives him an amused laugh. He notices that it is not demeaning or condescending. It is sincere.

“Why hold off?”

“There are a lot, and you need to memorize each letter and their pronunciation,” Hyukjae explains patiently. “You do want to be able to read them, right?”

Donghae grumbles under his breath, but he complies. 

“Repeat after me,” Hyukjae commands. “ _Giyok_.” He points at the ㄱ character.

“ _Giyok_ ,” Donghae repeats. 

Hyukjae points to the next character: ㄴ.

“ _Nieun_.” 

“ _Nieun_.”

“ _Rieul_.” Hyukjae’s finger points to the next: ㄹ.

“ _Rieul_.” 

They continue until they have gone over ten characters. Then, Donghae attempted to copy them down. He says each character out loud, and he sweats a little because this is a little harder than what he usually does. This is something new to him. 

But he will always do his best. 

He will memorize them. 

-

The next following days turn into weeks, and into a few months. Everyday, Donghae pushes himself to learn more and remember more. His handwriting does not improve, but it is alright with him. Miraculously, Hyukjae can still read them. Donghae is now able to read simple sentences, and sometimes write them down on his own time from his memory. He is now able to write each Korean character, and recite each individual pronunciation, which Hyukjae makes him do every day. 

In return, he gives Hyukjae candy. Well, he steals them for him because he has nothing. When he passes by vendors, he takes a handful of them without them knowing and he hurries on his merry way. This is the only way he can think of to repay Hyukjae. 

They are also unexpectedly growing closer. Hyukjae is always happy to receive his company, and when their brief lesson is done, Donghae talks about his life. Hyukjae learns that he has a brother and a mother, and that his father had died early on when he was younger. He absorbs all of the things that Donghae says, and then he writes them down. He treasures that Donghae is comfortable enough to share anything with him. 

He is also pretty happy whenever Donghae gives him candy. He always had a sweet tooth. 

His days are also lightening up. There is now Donghae in his space, Donghae, whose laughter comes generously, Donghae, whose words are straightforward and sometimes rude, Donghae, who comes everyday with his pieces of candy. 

It is quite unexpected, but it is okay with Hyukjae. 

-

Friendship with Donghae means poetry, and Hyukjae urges him to write his own so he may challenge himself. For several days, Hyukjae does not see Donghae, and when he finally does, he turns up with a pocketful of candies and a folded piece of paper that contains Donghae’s chicken scratch of a handwriting. 

Hyukjae accepts the candy, and he unwraps them, as Donghae struggles to read the poem he composed. 

Donghae’s tanned cheeks are painted with a pink blush, and he is coughing every now and then, struggling to make it through one phrase. 

Hyukjae waits patiently though. He knows that this is a feat for Donghae. 

“You...have a smile of a thousand suns, your words...may be few, but sweet,” Donghae begins to scowl, but Hyukjae encourages him on with a kind smile. “Your hands...though pale know the way to hold a pen properly…” 

Hyukjae nods, expecting more. 

Donghae coughs and he crumples the paper. “That’s all I have.”

“Why did you crumple it?” Hyukjae asks. He opens his palm, a command to make Donghae hand over the piece of paper. 

“You’re laughing at me,” Donghae accuses. 

Hyukjae raises an eyebrow, but he does laugh. 

“It’s horrible,” Donghae laments. 

“It is,” Hyukjae agrees. 

“You’re not supposed to agree!”

Hyukjae laughs out loud, and although his stomach hurts, it is a pleasant feeling. He is happy. 

-

Donghae makes his usual walk to Hyukjae’s house, snatching candies here and there. However, a group of men walking around with their hands on their katanas catches him in the act of stealing. At first, he thinks he is able to get away because he is very quick on his feet, but these men catch up with him quickly, and they drag him towards a decorated house with some big Japanese words he cannot read. He fights with them, even resorting to biting them, but the results are in vain. These men are strong, keeping a vise-like grip on his arms. They had also landed several punches on him, but Donghae is not someone who is easily beaten down.

He keeps getting up, despite taking several blows on the face.

He is dragged into a hallway, through a few sliding doors, and thrown in front of someone. He glimpses their feet, and when he is about to push himself up, he is stepped on.

Donghae grits his teeth. The anger that he felt towards the nobles boils deep down inside of him, turning his vision red. He growls out of frustration, and when he manages to break free, he becomes blind to his actions. He only remembers drawing out the katana from the person in front of him.

“Hm, interesting,” the person in front of him says in Korean.

Donghae really studies the person who just spoke. He is handsome, with clean eyebrows and big black eyes. He has long hair that he keeps back with a simple ponytail. When he smiles, there is something unhinged behind his expression that is threatening.

Donghae feels unnerved by him.

“Settle down, everyone,” the person commanded.

Donghae hears several people sheathing their katana, the sound of the blade hitting the scabbard echoing loudly in the room.

The person grins and he steps closer towards Donghae. He leans forward, even though Donghae did not lower the blade.

“I heard you have been stealing from my businesses,” he drawls out. He reaches forward and pinches the tip of the katana, and he lowers it down. “I was going to ask you to repay me back, either by money or your finger…”

Donghae’s hands shake, and he is unable to hold up the weapon in front of him.

“If you are going to stab me, then stab me.”

Donghae desires to do so but he is unable to. He has never intentionally harmed a person before.

The person suddenly kicks him and Donghae involuntarily lets go of the katana. The person starts to chuckle when Donghae begins to get up from the ground again. He crouches down, takes him up by the hair and foces his eyes to meet his own.

“I think I should make an investment instead,” the person grins with delight. His eyes light up in a way that makes Donghae’s insides twist uncomfortably. "I am a businessman, after all."

Donghae keeps mum. He is stubborn.

“You better come by here everyday,” he says. “Or I will find you and have my men beat you and your family up.”

Donghae grits his teeth, and he fights back the person’s grip on his hair.

“Do not disobey me,” he says.

Suddenly, he slaps Donghae in the face.

“Do you understand?”

Donghae does not answer. He can taste blood in his mouth.

“I said, do you fucking understand?” The person suddenly shouted at him. He kicks Donghae, and the boy lands on his back.

Donghae coughs, and he feels blood trickle from the corner of his mouth.

“Are you deaf, or just fucking stubborn?”

Donghae uses his elbow to prop him up. “Please,” he croaks out.

“Please what?”

“I will...come,” Donghae utters out with difficulty.

The person marches forward and grabs him by the collar. “I am the leader of the yakuza here. Do not cross me or steal from me. If you survive my teaching, you will be strong and you will be powerful. I will help you get up, but you will treat me with respect. Do you understand?”

Donghae’s ears ring with the words strong and powerful. They are the words that he aspires to be. He desires to be strong and powerful. And even more.

“Yes,” Donghae says with deference.

The person grins. “Welcome to my faction. I am Kim Heechul. And you are?”

Donghae stares at the person again, but then he looks away. “Lee Donghae.”

“See you tomorrow, Lee Donghae,” Kim Heechul says, but it is with authority and strictness of someone who knows that they are important. “Do not disobey me.”

-

Hyukjae does not see Donghae for a while. He grows quiet again, and he worries for Donghae’s sake. He does not know how to deal with the feeling of rejection if Donghae decides to halt the budding of their friendship. Surely, the feeling cannot be just a one-way street. He has truly enjoyed Donghae’s company and he hopes that the other feels the same way. 

It is harder to go back to his old routines as his days have been filled with Donghae. He finds it hard to concentrate on his studies, and he cannot produce a line of poetry anymore. It is hard to admit but he does miss his presence. 

Days continue to pass without Donghae, and Hyukjae is ready to forget about him. He wishes it were different, but he supposes that this is how things usually go between two people who meet. 

Hyukjae still has hope, and he hopes to see Donghae again. 

The days become longer and a year has passed. Hyukjae writes Donghae’s name several times in his notebook, since they are the only words that his hand can automatically think of to write. He also writes his name next to Donghae’s, thinking that the two names look nice beside each other. 

The year becomes two, and still Hyukjae does not see Donghae. 

Hyukjae still writes Donghae’s name, but it becomes easier to live without thoughts about him. Hyukjae still misses his friendship, but as the poems that he reads say, life must go on. 

-

The year becomes three, and Donghae is only growing stronger. Under Kim Heechul’s strict and harsh training, Donghae learns how to read, learn and speak Japanese. He learns how to fight with a sword, and his body is the evidence of his hard training. His skin is now decorated with scars and bruises, but they only serve Donghae to be his receipts to his growing victories within the yakuza. His family is also doing better because there are rewards that he had reaped from being a part of Heechul’s yakuza. 

He has never thought of being a gangster before, but this is the first opportunity that has landed on him in his life. He worked hard for this and gained a reputation among the yakuza faction. He had let them raise him with their values and their corrupt ways. They taught him everything he needed to know, and he put them to action. They teach him business, numbers and the ways of the sword. Most of all, they teach him how to get right back up to his feet because he can die by their hands anytime if he shows his weakness. 

The year becomes four and Heechul is pleased by his progress. He never had someone like Donghae before. He is proud of him, and if he keeps his progress up, Heechul has thoughts of putting him in a real position within the yakuza. Someone like Donghae should not be in the bottom. With his drive and his ambition, Donghae can go up, and Heechul will help him. 

Donghae wonders if he has achieved what he has strived for. He wonders if he is now strong and powerful, just like Heechul had promised he would become. 

-

Hyukjae is sitting on his usual spot that is overlooking the courtyard, when he watches someone walk in shyly. They are now clean and well-dressed, although not in a very fancy way. They are dressed in a practical way. A sword hangs by their waist, and there are some visible scars on his open chest, but they are faded. His hands are slightly curled, as if they are ready to go up and form into fists. 

Hyukjae watches him, wary. 

The person watches him too, and there is a strained expression on his face. He looks older, rougher. His eyes swim deeply, like dark pools that are bottomless. 

The sun looks mellow from above. The clouds travel to cover some of its light. 

The person finally gains the confidence to step forward, and Hyukjae notices his new slippers. They are much more fit for running around. They are sturdier than a pair of straw slippers. More comfortable too.

Donghae produces flowers from inside his jacket, and some pieces of wrapped candy. 

Hyukjae accepts them, unsure of how to react, but he knows that he is upset with Donghae. He wants to shout at Donghae, but he is never the type to yell loudly. 

“Where were you?” Hyukjae asks, looking away. He bites his lower lip.

“You don’t really want to know,” Donghae supplies. His voice is different now as well. They seem forceful, and the youth that he exuded when they were younger has gone away. It is replaced with a kind of bitterness that is somehow etched with the way he carries himself. Like he has been stepped on so many times.

“Are you still my friend?” Hyukjae demands, but his tone is steady. 

Donghae offers his back, urging Hyukjae to get on. “Of course I am.”

-

Donghae carries him through the busy streets, pointing out some particular things and making a few jokes about the people they pass by. Hyukjae can only rest his head on Donghae’s shoulder, listening to his voice. He sounds matured, more like a man than a boy. His voice is deeper, but the hardness that Hyukjae had detected earlier is gone. It is replaced by an awkward gentleness, and Hyukjae finds pieces of the old Donghae there. 

He sighs in relief, for he hates big changes. At least Donghae is back in his life again. 

“Have you written more poems?” Hyukjae asks Donghae as they take a trip by the river where they first met. 

Donghae smiles ruefully. Hyukjae had never seen him smile like that. “I did not really have the time.”

Hyukjae goes quiet.

Donghae sits him down on a bench, and smiles at him fondly. “Wait here, alright?”

Hyukjae nods, for he can only agree. He does not have legs to wander around with. Later, Donghae comes back with several steaming foods, some of them raging from sweet, salty to oily. They eat the street foods together, laughing like they are small boys again at the ripe age of fifteen. 

Hyukjae’s eyes land on his sword. “You are now skilled with swords, huh?” 

Donghae’s smile is strained but he nods. “It was hard work.”

Hyukjae grins. “If anything, you are able to accomplish many things. I know you can.”

Donghae lets out a relieved chuckle. “You really think so?”

“I know so.”

-

The next day, Donghae comes again, but he comes by at late afternoon, bearing snacks and a crumpled piece of paper. Hyukjae is surprised that Donghae is drinking, but he is happy that his friend returned. He dares himself to take a sip of the alcohol, and although the taste is a little disagreeable, he endures it for the sake of spending more time with Donghae. 

The sun sets, and they lie side by side. Dinner will be served anytime now. 

_When all is well, the mighty pine_

_Ignores the claims of autumn._

_Somehow, though, you did not forget me,_

_The face I revered has now changed._

_Like ripples in the old garden pond by moonlight_

_Again and again I feel hurt,_

_To know that though I want to see you again_

_The world brings parting to everyone._

Donghae glances at Hyukjae. He notices his well defined face and that he is quite pretty. He finds his thick lips agreeable, and he wonders about the feeling of it against his fingers, his skin.

“Did you write that?” Donghae inquires, his voice deep. 

“No,” Hyukjae hesitates. “Someone else.”

Donghae can feel Hyukjae’s warmth beside him. How he wishes that he is never torn away from him. Realistically, this is how things should be. Hyukjae, highly regarded and far from him, always separated from him because of how life drives them to become. 

“What was the piece of paper you had earlier? Another poem?” Hyukjae asks, fingers ghosting against Donghae's own hand. 

“Another poem,” Donghae agrees. It is a little harder to swallow down the thickness that is building inside his throat. Hyukjae's almost touches makes his skin tingle, making him crave for more. 

“Will you read it for me?”

“Will you make fun of me for it?” 

“Maybe. But you know I like them. They are very...you.”

Donghae chuckles, and he sits up. He also helps Hyukjae up, and he stares at him. He feels his heart race a little faster as he unfolds the piece of paper containing his poems. 

“Like the moon who shines during the darkest hours, like the sea and its lulling voice,” Donghae begins, his voice growing a little hoarse. “Your presence keeps loneliness at bay, and when I turn to you, I wish to keep my gaze towards you a little longer.”

Hyukjae’s heart twists and it starts to beat in jumps that breaks through the surface of his skin, and he lets out a tiny laugh that sounds more like a choke. “You never really improved.”

“Really?”

Hyukjae smiles, and he shuffles closer to Donghae. “You have another one?”

“Tomorrow.”

Hyukjae hopes for tomorrow to come quickly. 

-

Donghae does not come until days later, and he carries Hyukjae again on his back for a long walk. They walk until they arrive by the pier, and they find a spot that views the open sea. Seagulls caw nearby, some flying into their view to decorate the horizon. Behind them, fishermen and dock workers shout at each other rapidly, and some even curse harshly from a few inconveniences. 

Hyukjae watches the sea glitter, deep in thought. Somehow, the poems that he had read before are starting to make sense to him. He wonders when did they ever grow up from the two boys who argued about the silliest things. 

Donghae inches closer towards Hyukjae, and he puts his coat over Hyukjae’s shoulder. The coat is made by a Japanese tailor. It is still a poor man's jacket, but it is still a jacket nonetheless. He will warm Hyukjae for a little bit longer. 

“Hyukjae,” Donghae utters his name like a prayer. He keeps his gaze on the horizon as well. “I am sorry.”

After a few moments of silence, Hyukjae turns to Donghae. “For what?”

“For many things.”

Hyukjae bumps his shoulder against Donghae’s. “There is no need for that.”

“Hyukjae,” Donghae says again. He may never get tired of saying it, but he also does not know when he can say it again like this. 

“What?”

“I’m leaving for Japan,” Donghae says, but it does not lift the weight from his heart. He should be happy and all the more excited that Heechul has entrusted him enough to take charge in another country. This is something that he has strived to make happen. He will finally be something more than just a son of a former slave. He will now be able to provide for his family and make things happen. No one will ever look down on him again. 

“Oh.” Hyukjae is startled by this big change, but he does not say anything to make Donghae stay. He will go his own way, and Donghae will go on to another. 

For a few moments, there is nothing but the sea. The sun dips low, and Donghae takes Hyukjae back home. 

They walk quietly, passing the streets that are starting to come alive with light. People still mill about, coming and going, never-ending. 

Hyukjae sees a shop window, and he spots an open music box, with a carousel spinning on top of it. It keeps turning and turning. There is no break. A faint music can be heard through the glass. It sings of longing.

Donghae gently seats Hyukjae by his usual spot on his front porch, and he kneels in front of Hyukjae for the first time in his life. He has never knelt so low in front of a noble. He reaches out to touch his knee, with a gentleness that Hyukjae knows he is capable of. A gentleness that he thought had disappeared. 

“I will write to you,” Donghae promises. “I will come back, but it will be a while.”

Hyukjae nods with a numbness he has never felt before. His hand travels on top of Donghae’s hand, and it rests there for a while. 

After a few more minutes, Donghae leaves and Hyukjae is left behind. He still has Donghae’s jacket on his shoulders, and he pulls it tighter around himself. He watches Donghae’s back shrink away from him, the darkness of the night covering him like a cape. He wants to call back Donghae, to tell him a million things that have been running on his mind because he had all the time to think, but he is always rendered speechless. He never had the courage to put voice into words. 

Before he sleeps, Hyukjae lights a candle. This candle will glow throughout the night, persistent despite being a small flame. It keeps going until it melts into a small nub, but in the morning, it foretells of its duration, and there is still something left of it. 

There are no more tomorrows. They have run out of tomorrows, and as the world move in a faster pace, Hyukjae is left behind in the past. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you for reading.
> 
> The poems in italics are from a book called "The Classical Poetry of Korea" where it delves into the forms of poems that the Korean people wrote, some dating back to many centuries ago. I was reading them and I thought that including them may befit this work of fiction. 
> 
> I want to put a disclaimer that there will be historical inaccuracies in here. As always, I want to focus on EunHae's story and the passing generations. The historical events that will take place will only be shown by how they are affected by it.


	3. years 1930-1940, Japan: Land of the Rising Sun Part One

The candlelight flickers beside his face, making the shadows dance around in the room. Hyukjae sits beside the tiny light, a blank page of his notebook laid out in front of him. On the previous page, Lee Donghae’s name is written many times, as if it is meant to summon him by sheer will. Hyukjae knows that it is late, but he could not sleep for he knows that his dreams will not show who he really wants to see. 

Hyukjae sighs, and he begins to draw. Line by line, until he gets Donghae’s features down. He draws him how he remembers him best, with crinkling eyes and a ready smile playing by his lips. He hears his voice loud and clear, as if he is just beside him. Donghae could never be silenced. He always talks in such a loud and confident voice. He moves loudly too. His steps always leave a thump on the ground, and even the way he sways his arms seem to make some kind of noise. 

If Hyukjae is the moon, always mellow and bleak, Donghae is the sun. He shines a light on every dark corner, he points out what is wrong and he never wavers from anything. 

Hyukjae stops and he stares at his artwork. His friend stares back at him from the page, and he looks as if he is about to burst into laughter. 

Hyukjae sighs again, and he closes the book. It seems like all he does is sigh these days. He sighs when he wakes up, sighs before he eats, sighs when he delves into the teachings of Confucianism. 

Outside his tiny bubble of life, the world moves on. His country is being industrialized by Japan, and their language is buried by a new one that suppresses everything his people are. They cannot celebrate their own holidays, and follow through their traditions. There is little freedom to be found. 

Hyukjae holds on to the old ways. He holds on to his language, to the way he is brought up. He feels as if he’s entirely alone while everyone is busy trying to change themselves. He is the one trying to remember every single thing while the others want to leave and do something else with their life. 

To Hyukjae, the feeling of being alone in his own world is not too bad. Although it weighs him down sometimes, the things he knows, the ways that he practices and the knowledge and memories he holds are the only ones grounding him. They are the only ones that remind him who he is. He is made up of his poems, of his sacred texts that came from his ancestors. He is made up of Donghae’s smiles that grew rare on their last days together before he left. 

Hyukjae puts the candle on the ground, moves the low table away from him, then settles the candle on top of it again. He settles inside his made bed, letting the blanket warm him from the cold that comes from the dark places of his heart that just longs for the way things were. 

-

Hyukjae can simply close his eyes, and suddenly, he can breathe in Donghae’s scent of the outdoors. It smells of grass and smoke, and a hint of metal as he keeps his sword close. Hyukjae doesn’t ask. He doesn’t ask why Donghae forgot about him for five years, only to leave him right after. He doesn’t ask how and why Donghae changed into the dark garb of the Japanese and held their swords around his hand. 

He detests why he never made Donghae talk, but in a way, he is also protecting himself. Even if he knows a little bit more about Donghae, there is nothing he can do. He is paralyzed. He is dependent. 

His last days with Donghae were so hard to endure, but he does. He makes it through them because it’s Donghae. There will never be a day he will waste when there is Donghae occupying his hours, when he is breathing the air around him. 

Maybe he didn’t want to know what Donghae was up to. Maybe he is also afraid of seeing Donghae as someone else. Someone who will carve a path for himself and leave Hyukjae stranded. 

Hyukjae is frustrated. He is also mad at himself for his predicament. He is angry at that Japanese officer for taking away his legs. He is angry at the Japanese for taking his culture and his traditions away. 

He wants to be angry, he wants to lash out. He wants to scream like the way Donghae does whenever he is frustrated. 

But he does not have a voice. He feels small. He is too insignificant, for someone who is supposed to be in the higher class. 

Hyukjae cries himself to sleep for there is little he can do. 

-

Donghae’s first letter arrives one year later, in winter. 

Hyukjae holds it in his hand as if he is holding an infant. He smiles secretly to himself, and he carefully pries the letter open. The paper unfurls under his delicate touches, and soon, he finds Donghae’s rough handwriting on the paper. Even before reading, Hyukjae can hear him and his loud exclamations. 

_Hyukjae,_

_I’m sorry for taking so long to write. I hope this letter finds you well. Don’t worry about me, I am doing well here. My boss assigned me some important jobs and luckily, I accomplished them. Here, I have to speak Japanese. I have no one to speak Korean here with, but I think of you and everything comes back to me. There are some Koreans here too, but they grew up here. They would not know the struggle that comes with living in our country._

_I miss you, Hyukjae. I think of being by your side every day. I hope you feel the same way too._

_Lee Donghae_

Hyukjae almost crumples the paper in his hands from his excitement, but he finds the will to stop himself. Donghae had always spoken so frankly, and those words hit straight to his heart. He rereads the letter again, and his fingers find their way to the lines that Donghae had written. 

He has gotten better. Hyukjae has stayed the same. 

-

_Donghae,_

_The moon is bright tonight, and no clouds block my sight_

_My childish desires hope for your return_

_And yet I know what you must do_

_You are the splint to light my fire_

_You do not grow weary but you burn too quickly_

_You are as bright as the sun_

_And the only way to look at you is through my narrow eyes_

_Yet, I look. Still I find myself looking._

_Lee Hyukjae_

-

Donghae’s letters come to a halt, and Hyukjae lives out the next summers in a haze. He daydreams of Donghae lying by his side, but they are only boys in there. They are now men, with their own ways and their own convictions. Somehow, Hyukjae has peace in his heart that Donghae is out there, achieving his dreams. Meanwhile, he is content to write and to tell forbidden stories that people can be arrested for knowing. 

Children secretly gather in his house, where he teaches them the basics of their almost forgotten language, and for the most eager ones, he gifts them poetry. 

These meetings are not allowed and if the wrong person is to catch wind of this, he may very well walk himself through a firing squad, but Hyukjae feels like this is important. This is his purpose for now. It is alright that his legs were taken from him. It is alright that his heart is out there, a sea away and in a country that has oppressed them, doing gods know what. 

Hyukjae is content. For this small change is not much in the grand scheme of things. 

-

The day could not have been any better. The sky is clear, and the sun smiles at the world, a constant to everyone whose lives are changing day by day. Hyukjae is sitting in his usual spot in the front yard, watching the children that he took on as students play. He smiles as they laugh and chase each other. 

The trees rustle as a soft breeze blows by, and a passing cloud darkens the surrounding a little bit. Hyukjae looks up by the gate, and the laughter fades away. 

A group of Japanese soldiers enter the compound of his house, and he stares at them, a rebellious anger bubbling from the pit of his stomach. They are the people who took everything from him. 

One of them barks an order in Japanese, the leader, and a few soldiers storm into his home. Hyukjae watches in wild bewilderment as his parents are dragged out. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Hyukjae shouts. His voice goes to their deaf ears. His language is not too familiar to them. 

The children scatter, running out of the house and shoving the officers away. 

His father is on his knees, begging for them to stop. 

“Take our money!” His father cries. “But please, do not take our house-”

Hyukjae gasps as he witnesses an officer plant the butt of his rifle into the back of his father’s head. 

“No!” Hyukjae bellows like he has never before. It strains his throat, but he shouts. He wants them to stop. 

HIs mother starts to cry, fighting off an officer that is pulling at her clothes. Her clothes rip, exposing her neck and her bare shoulders. 

“Stop it!” Hyukjae cries. He attempts to move towards them by groveling on the ground. 

However, he feels Jungsoo behind him, holding him back. 

“Let me go!” Hyukjae breaks away from Jungsoo. 

“ _Eomma!_ ”

Hyukjae watches as his father fights off the other officers surrounding his mother. His heart drops as his father is beaten to the ground. Someone kicks him, and he goes blind when he feels several stomps on his fragile body. He catches glimpses of his mother being driven to the ground, and his father’s blood spilling on the ground. He hears Jungsoo and the other servants being commanded to kneel down, and their cries of help.

The sun is high in the sky. Everything is too loud. 

Hyukjae cries out helplessly, and he sees his father go limp from a big strike. His mother cries and throws herself on top of his father’s body as the soldiers continue to beat them down. 

“Father…” Hyukjae utters out. 

It seems to continue on. Hyukjae sees only the ground, and when he comes to himself, he finds polished black shoes just above his line of vision. He sees his reflection in them, and he sees how pathetic and low he is. His face is dirty and bloodied; only his tears are creating two clear lines on his face. 

“ _Nani ga okotteiru ga?_ ” A sharp, deep voice cuts through the chaos. He sounds commanding, as if he is used to barking out orders like this. “ _What is going on here?_ ” 

There is silence. Hyukjae cannot hear anything from his parents. They lie away from the corner of his vision, still and bloody. 

“I said, what the hell is going on here?” The hard voice demands. 

Hyukjae slowly looks up through his haze. He shivers, as he sees white, pressed pants. He continues to look up, and he finds Donghae standing over him, his face tight but handsome. His hair is styled neatly, and his white suit is fitted to him to accentuate the hard lines of his body. 

Hyukjae can only look. He tries to look for the person he knew, but he is not here. He is nowhere to be found. 

“Get lost!” Donghae barks, and the soldiers scurry out of the house. 

A long minute passes between them. Donghae’s shadow covers him, and Hyukjae wants to scream. 

_Who are you?!_ Hyukjae wants to demand. 

His body trembles, and his mind tries to help him cope, but he ends up swallowing every feeling inside of him. 

Hyukjae is horrified. 

Donghae kneels down, slightly dirtying his immaculate suit. The dirt that marks his knee does not belong there. 

“Hyukjae,” Donghae softly murmurs. His hand goes under Hyukjae’s arm in an attempt to help him sit up.

Hyukjae fights Donghae’s hold, but he is too strong. Donghae grips his arm and sits him all the way up. Hyukjae catches the sight of his parents, and it burns into his mind. They are not moving. 

Hyukjae gasps, trying to pull air into his lungs. The world seems to sway around him. His fingers claw into Donghae’s expensive white suit, wrinkling it. He lets out a broken sound as he comes undone. 

“No…” He starts. More tears streamed from his face. 

“Hyukjae,” Donghae says again. 

Hyukjae cries, and Donghae holds him into his chest as he shakes and screams out every word he meant to keep to himself. 

Hyukjae wants to take off the suffocating weight settling on his chest. He wants it gone. He is angry, he is in grief, and it takes form in his helpless cries. He cannot collect himself. 

“Get away from me,” Hyukjae shouts, and he pushes Donghae away. 

Donghae keeps holding on, even though Hyukjae is landing hard punches on him. His words of comfort are not received, but he tells Hyukjae to keep on hitting him, to let it all out. 

For all his poems and his letters, Hyukjae is bereft of his life, of any coherent words that can give voice to his pain. 

The wind passes by, stirring the leaves on the ground. A brown leaf lands on the sticky, puddle of blood that is spilled from his parents. 

No one hears Hyukjae. Not even Donghae.

-

Hyukjae does not speak for days. He does not speak when Donghae brings him to a ship with his few belongings. He does not utter a word when he is put into a cabin, and laid on the bed. He only keeps his eyes in front of him, for he does not know what the future holds. He hears nothing even though Jungsoo and Donghae keep talking to him. He feels nothing despite warm hands moving his incapacitated body. He wants nothing but to keep his eyes closed so that he can only see darkness, but he has been awake for what seems like days and if he sleeps, he dreams of pain. His mind holds on to the way his parents died, their screams greet him when he is asleep. He feels the beatings of the Japanese soldiers, each hard kick with their booted feet nailing him to the ground. He can only grovel on the rough soil underneath his palms.

So he stays awake and blocks out anything that will make him feel pain. 

There is no such thing as nobles anymore. Hyukjae is not only stripped of his family, but his status and his money. 

Hyukjae does not say anything when he is carried off the ship, and he immediately finds a flag of Japan, its angry red circle on white, with its rays spreading out. He hates it. He wants to take it in his hands and rip it apart, but he cannot even walk. 

Hyukjae is in a daze when Jungsoo helps him sit on a mechanical chair that is able to wheel him off from one place to another. When Donghae appears in front of him, he is met with such aversion that he can only glare at the other man. Everything about him reminds him nothing of home; Donghae is now a Japanese man, if such a thing is even possible. Donghae speaks their language, and has even picked up the way they carry themselves. 

He has no home, and every night, Hyukjae weeps, and he weeps for what he has lost, for what could have been, and what could never be. 


	4. years 1930-1940: Japan, Land of the Rising Sun, part two

They arrive at a huge house with what looks like it is leveled with many floors, surrounded with a huge, foreboding wall and trees. Hyukjae feels Jungsoo’s steady presence behind him, pushing the wheelchair that he sits on. He looks ahead, ignoring Donghae, who is walking right beside him. Surrounding them are more Japanese people in the same suits. They are all wearing the same stoic expression and their movements are synchronised, rehearsed. It makes Hyukjae’s skin crawl, but he takes solace in the fact that he is safe around Donghae. 

The moment that they enter the compound, Hyukjae is slightly amazed at the display of well-organized gardens, and of course, the house that stands proudly in the center of it all. Water trickles somewhere to his right, and he follows its direction until he sees a pond connected to a fountain with a long bamboo stick that allows the flow of water between them. Up ahead, are two lines of more Japanese people, each one occupying their left and right, and they bow in respect the moment Donghae comes near them. 

“ _Yasume_ ,” Donghae commands, his voice deep and authoritative. At ease. 

The people straighten up, and they stare straight ahead, waiting. A tall man stands right before them, in between the two lines. He bows last, and he smiles casually. 

“Is this him?” The man asks, his face immediately lighting up. His smile widens, framing his face with two deep dimples. 

Hyukjae blinks at the sudden Korean that was spoken. He finally glances at Donghae, and at this friendly stranger. 

“ _Anyeonghaseyo, Hyukjae-ssi_ ,” the man greets. He bows again, this time, towards Hyukjae. " _Welcome to Osaka, Japan_."

Even though there is no reason for him to hold onto what manners he was taught, it comes back to him easily. So he greets this man properly with his weak, unused voice–in fact, it was too weak and quiet that a passing breeze can blow by and snatch his words away. He thinks he sees the others leaning in, as if it will help them hear him better. 

“I am Choi Siwon, right hand of Lee Donghae,” the man continues. He looks around for a moment. Again, he smiles. This time, he speaks in Japanese. “ _Donghae, you are needed_.” 

Donghae nods. “Give me a second.” He turns, and then he kneels right in front of Hyukjae. 

The others look at the scene in bewilderment, probably wondering why Donghae is lowering himself in front of a handicapped man. However, they keep their silence.

Hyukjae looks away, not caring if he is offending anyone at the moment. He hears Donghae sigh, and Hyukjae wishes that he is not acting like this. He wishes he could look at Donghae straight to his face, but he is scared that he might not find him. _His_ Donghae. 

“Hyukjae, look at me,” Donghae utters with a venerable tone. 

Suddenly, Donghae takes both of his hands and he jumps in surprise. Hyukjae meets Donghae’s eyes, and he finds himself falling into those deep, dark pools, and he sees an underlying anger that is barely being managed. However, when Donghae speaks, it is gentle, like a warm blanket to keep the cold at bay. 

“I will take care of you, I promise,” Donghae continues. He does not break eye contact. “Let me do that, okay? Please?” 

Hyukjae thinks he might finally cry, but he is afraid that he might not be able to stop if a tear escapes from his eyes. Hyukjae squeezes Donghae’s hands, and finally, _finally_ , he sees _his_ Donghae. He feels comforted, and for a moment, the weight that is slowly bringing his shoulders down lightens up. 

Donghae smiles, and he reaches forward to caress Hyukjae’s face. “I will be back.” 

Donghae walks away, carrying himself with pride. The two lines surrounding Siwon fall into one line and they follow Donghae as he rounds the corner of the house. 

“Well,” Siwon announces. “Follow me.”

~

Hyukjae is brought into a smaller house in the huge compound, a few gardens away from the main house. Siwon shows him his designated quarters, and the room beside it slides open to Jungsoo’s room. The wooden floors are relatively warm, and there are huge windows that open out to the outside world. The room is simple, but neat. Drawers line up against one wall, and a huge closet which Siwon had opened to show where the linens are being kept. 

Hyukjae is brought into the tea room, and Jungsoo prepares tea out of their sight. An incense burner sits in the corner, unlit. 

Siwon sits in front of Hyukjae, peering at him curiously. Hyukjae watches the still gardens from the open shoji doors. He sees the bridge that they crossed earlier to get to this house, the small pine trees that look like small clouds on the ground, and the flowers with layers and layers of pink and red petals. There are huge slabs of stones that complete the picture, some stacked against each other with careful balance, and some on the ground to carve a pathway. 

“What is Korea like?” Siwon asks carefully, attempting some small talk. “I was raised here, so I don’t know what it’s like there.”

Hyukjae turns to Siwon. “Were you born there?”

“Yes, but I came here when I was just a child.”

Hyukjae tries to recall what home was like for him, but he also risks resurfacing the pain that he can barely push away. He clenches his fist, and his already pale knuckles turn white. 

“Korea has changed. You wouldn’t know the difference,” Hyukjae curtly manages. 

Siwon stares at him, and then decides to move on by telling him about the shops and the popular spots in Osaka. Hyukjae listens indifferently, managing to keep the sophisticated air that he was brought up to display. Jungsoo brings the tea over, and he pours the hot water on the dried green tea leaves quietly. 

The sound of the pouring hot water makes Siwon stop, and he smiles apologetically. 

“I am afraid that I have exceeded my welcome,” he announces. “I will come by often, and please, let me know if there is anything else that I can do for you.”

Hyukjae sees Siwon bow in the corner of his eyes, and he nods to acknowledge him. The taller man stands up and he makes his way towards the open doors. 

“What, exactly, is Donghae doing here?” Hyukjae asks, stopping Siwon from taking another step out. 

Siwon turns, and Hyukjae can see the hesitation in his eyes. 

Finally, Siwon replies. “He is an important man that oversees important businesses.” He bows again. 

Hyukjae finishes his tea in silence, and when late afternoon arrives, he retires to his private room, wanting nothing else but to shut the rest of the world out. 

~

Donghae arrives just before dinnertime, dressed in a new, navy suit. He rouses Hyukjae from his sleep and helps him dress. Hyukjae did not put up much of a fight this time, and he allowed Donghae to take him outside. Donghae is followed by several men again, but they keep their distance unless Donghae asks them for assistance. Hyukjae is seated in the wheelchair again, and instead of letting Jungsoo push him, Donghae insists that he wants to do it instead. 

The main house is swarming with activity, as people go around to light up the lanterns surrounding the house. In the distance, Hyukjae catches sight of a pregnant woman standing on the engawa, occasionally walking up and down to talk with people. She looks pretty and young, and there is an air of command that shows up in the way she holds her posture. Hyukjae can tell that she is an important person in this place. 

The woman stops and turns towards their direction. She watches as Donghae pushes him over the bridge that connects the main house and Hyukjae’s place, and when they have finally crossed over, she nods towards Donghae and then she walks away, followed by a line of maids. 

Donghae continues to push the wheelchair until they arrive at a lot filled with rows of black automobiles, like the ones Hyukjae rode from his arrival to Japan. It is waiting for them, its engine rumbling and popping. It is loud, and it roars whenever the person in front of the wheel presses the gas pedal. 

“Let’s go,” Donghae announces, followed by his charming smile.

Hyukjae is assisted into the backseat, and Donghae slides in beside him. 

Jungsoo stares at them, unsure of what to do. His hands are clasped together, his eyebrows knitted together with anxiety. 

“I’ll take care of him from here,” Donghae says. He rests his elbow on the edge of the door easily. 

Hyukjae gives Jungsoo a ghost of a reassuring smile. 

Jungsoo bows, and the automobiles pull out one by one towards the exit. The driver takes them towards the busier streets of Osaka, and Hyukjae watches the new world he is suddenly plunged into. There is nothing familiar in this place. Although it is much brighter compared to his home. There are building structures that he has never seen before, and there is a lit tower in the distance for all the city to see. 

The people he sees are all dressed fairly well, and he rarely sees anyone wondering about without their shoes. There are also huge store signs that Hyukjae cannot read because they are in Japanese. He didn’t have to worry about reading in Japanese before since he expected that he would only have to know the Korean language in the comfort of his status.

“Are you cold?” Donghae asks, his voice rising above the noise of the automobile. 

Donghae does not get a reply, but he shrugs off his expensive suit jacket anyways and wraps Hyukjae’s frail shoulders with them. 

The automobile stops at an intersection, and Hyukjae happens to look at a confectionary store. There are kids at its store front, giggling and pointing at the decorated sweets behind a glass display. 

“ _At the usual district_ ,” Donghae tells the driver in Japanese. Then, he looks at the direction Hyukjae is looking at. “ _Nevermind, just park ahead_.” 

When the automobile advances, it slows to a stop by other parked cars. The other automobiles that were following them stopped as well to find a parking spot. 

“What’s going on?” Hyukjae asks, hating that he has to rely on Donghae to know and state what should be the obvious for him. 

Donghae smiles. “Just wait here, okay?”

“Donghae,” Hyukjae warns, not wanting to be left alone. He wishes Jungsoo was here, so that he does not feel exposed. Even though no one knows him, he still feels like people are gawking at him, mocking him. 

“I won’t take long, I promise,” Donghae reassures and he hops out of the car. 

Hyukjae waits in the car, and he thinks about counting the seconds to focus on something to do. The world around him is loud and he does not know if he will get used to it. There are so many things to look at and examine, and Hyukjae is suddenly feeling exhausted by thinking about what to think, what to feel and what to look or hear. There is too much of everything. 

His hand comes up to Donghae's jacket and he squeezes it. He even sniffs it, and it dawns to him that it smells like metal, smoke and the sea air. Maybe he will get used to it. 

“I’m back!” Donghae announces and with the energy of a kid, he jumps in without opening the door and lands next to Hyukjae. 

The automobile jostles, but it holds. 

Donghae slides over a huge box wrapped delicately in a pretty pattern of lace. “I know how much you love sweet things so I got you pastries!”

Hyukjae opens the box, and he finds a variety of baked bread coated in sugar. He picks one up and takes a bite of it. The sweetness comes unexpectedly, and he hums in satisfaction. 

“It’s good, right?” Donghae exclaims. 

Hyukjae lets out a small laugh, forgetting his troubles for the meantime. “It is.” 

Donghae’s grin widens. “There are so many more candy shops and more sweet shops around here! I’ll take you to all of them if you want!” 

Hyukjae watches the light on Donghae’s face, the way his smile changes his eyes. It’s always his eyes that are more expressive than the rest of his features. When he is angry or upset, they harden to a black, stone wall. When he is happy, like this, he becomes like a kid, like that teenager that Hyukjae met all those years ago. It is never hard to know what Donghae is feeling or thinking. He never tries to hide away his emotions, and that is something Hyukjae is relieved to know; that at least wherever Donghae is, his heart never changes. He is always so driven and alive. Hyukjae wishes that he is someone like that, but he never had any purpose to pursue. 

Maybe he will get used to this. Maybe he will learn to accept this. He will just need to find another purpose to fit right next to Donghae. 

~

As they head home after dinner, Hyukjae watches Donghae light up a cigarette. He watches the way he strikes up the match, how the flame quickly goes out the moment it fires up the end of the cigarette. Donghae blows the smoke out into the air, and the scent of tobacco wafts into the atmosphere. 

“What have you been up to, Lee Donghae?” Hyukjae asks. 

This question seems like an understatement, but he also does not know how else to ask him what had happened to all of those years in between them. Donghae seems to be always doing something, and just as Hyukjae catches wind of one thing, Donghae moves on to another one. 

As Donghae tries to find the words to say, the engine of the automobile fills the silence with its burps and clanking metal. 

“Well,” Donghae begins. He shakes the cigarette a little and he rests his elbow on the top of the car door. “I run a few businesses now. It really varies. From restaurants, to goods, to small things like clothing. Games.” 

Hyukjae is not satisfied with his answer. “How?” 

Donghae chuckles, but it is calculated, giving him some time to put up a wall. “How? Well, I’m not alone. I’m just a part of this whole operation. I just happened to move up because I have been a good student.” 

Hyukjae sighs and he stares straight ahead. 

“Oh yeah,” Donghae says to change the subject. “You should think of a new name. You’re starting over, so how about giving yourself something that symbolizes your new start?” 

“Did you think of a new name?” 

The corner of Donghae’s mouth lifts up. “Not exactly. You know me, I’m never that intricate.”

“How so?” 

“ _Ri Donhe_ ,” Donghae laughs. “That’s just the Japanese counterpart of my name.”

Hyukjae chuckles at Donghae’s lack of originality. This was just like their banters through poems. Donghae, with his crude bluntness, and Hyukjae, with his gentle and sophisticated prose.

“I’ll think about it.” 

~

Donghae helps Hyukjae get undressed after dismissing Jungsoo to his own room. The process is slow and silent, but Donghae has hone in his patience a long time ago and he is gentle with Hyukjae. He wipes Hyukjae’s skin with a warm towel with concentration, and then helps him dress into his night clothes. Hyukjae rejects him continuously, wanting to do this by himself, but Donghae is always so persistent and annoying. 

Finally, Hyukjae is on his bed, completely covered by his blanket. The lit lantern in the corner of the room flickers, but it perseveres. It does not go off and it will continue to hold on until its last breath. 

Donghae lies beside him, as restless as always. 

“You can do whatever you like here,” Donghae murmurs. “Just make sure that Siwon is with you, or one of my people.” 

Hyukjae reaches out, and he rests his palm on Donghae’s cheek. “I’m sorry for making things difficult.” 

Donghae shakes his head. “It’s not your fault, Hyukjae. I wish I was there for you.” 

“You have always been with me,” Hyukjae says. “If not your presence, but your voice and your words.” His hand goes to Donghae’s chest. “Your heart.” 

Donghae grabs Hyukjae’s hand on his chest and he squeezes it. He inches closer to Hyukjae, until his face is only a few inches away. 

“I can do many things now, Hyukjae. You don’t have to be afraid or worry about anything,” Donghae reaffirms. “I’ll make you happy.”

“You can’t promise that,” Hyukjae whispers. 

“I can afford to promise it now,” Donghae replies, his eyes meeting Hyukjae in a pleading way. 

Hyukjae does not know what it is, but he begins to lean forward as well, until he can feel the air Donghae is exhaling. He does not know what it is but he is propelled forward, until he can feel Donghae’s lips on his, soft but firm, lasting like spring at the edge of the first summer day. 

Hyukjae pulls away, surprised about the sudden kiss, but Donghae leans forward again, stealing his lips once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOh! I made a playlist for this fic, so if you have time, check it out, or: PLAY IT WHILE YOU'RE READING THE FIC 10/10 RECOMMEND, TEARS GUARANTEED
> 
> Playlist link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5ZSFxkUqYuD9Dz2HSQPiDy?si=ehX-uytBT0mv1Smx6USHZw
> 
> Also, I put a lot of symbols in this fic. I hope you guys notice them because they are SIGNIFICANT !! I hope that reading this fic is not too exhausting, I just sincerely want to provide something more substantial and meaningful not only to me, but to you as a reader too.
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


	5. Years 1930-1940, Japan: Land of the Rising Sun, Part Three

_Eunhyuk_.

That is the name that Hyukjae finds to suit him well. Although he was barely able to glimpse the ocean while he was traveling to Japan, he finally got the chance to see it. The ocean is silver under the imposing red sun of Japan, but it shines like a beacon. It is constant, and it goes on towards the horizon, towards the hope that maybe tomorrow will be better.

Hyukjae tries his best to act normal, so that he does not worry Donghae and Jungsoo. He is never a cheerful person to begin with, but he keeps a smile on just so he does not have to feel like he is a burden to anyone. Donghae comes to his quarters almost every night, but most of the time, he is exhausted and tense, his shoulders drawn tightly towards his neck. There is a darkness in Donghae’s eyes that Hyukjae cannot understand, but he tries to. He wants to.

Sometimes, Donghae does not even sleep. He just lies awake beside him, counting the hours until dawn and then he is off again like a bird shaking its wings to fly. When he does sleep, Donghae talks, and it’s not even the pleasant kind of sleep talking. It always sounds like Donghae is doing extreme sports in his sleep, with the occasional cry of pain as if he is getting stabbed-not that Hyukjae knows what that’s like.

Hyukjae does not fare well either. No matter how hard he suppresses his nightmares, they always come slipping in through the cracks of his walls, unexpected and uninvited, like a drunkard in the middle of the night that hurls bottles towards windows and gets violent at the sight of other men. Hyukjae does not want to think about his parents, and because of that, he can barely decipher their faces in his memories. They are garbled, warped, like a painting submerged into water.

If he tries to remember them he hears their screams. He feels their pain and he remembers all that he has lost.

Not even Donghae’s hand in his will erase away the past.

~

One morning, Hyukjae is out in the engawa, eating whatever sweet candy or baked bread Donghae had sent this morning, when he notices a commotion on the other side of the bridge, where Donghae resides when he is not with Hyukjae.

He sees a glimpse of Siwon and Donghae, a dark brooding pair for such a sunny day, followed by a man screaming for help. No one can hear him. Just Hyukjae and his other witnesses in this closed compound. Jungsoo attempts to move Hyukjae away, but Hyukjae fights him. The man continues to scream.

It is hard to see what is happening since much of the event is covered by the garden and the small pond that divides Hyukjae’s little house and Donghae. Always on the other side.

However, as it is hard to see, it is harder to sit and listen and seek to watch what is happening. Finally, the screaming man is cut off abruptly. Hyukjae feels chilly even if the air is warm.

The people scatter, and the man is carried away to who knows where.

Hyukjae does not want to see anymore, he wishes he can close his eyes and remain ignorant. Donghae comes out, his white collared shirt splattered with blood. His hand clutches around a long katana, also covered with blood.

Hyukjae wants to hurl his insides out. He is really starting to hate the color red.

Donghae turns towards him, and he stands looking at Hyukjae like that, hair disheveled and his eyes wild like an animal out for its prey. Maybe Donghae has always looked like this and Hyukjae has dismissed everything else.

He is so unhinged, so unfamiliar, it is almost like he is staring at those Japanese soldiers that destroyed his home.

Hyukjae turns his head away.

~

Sometimes, when Hyukjae goes out, he wants to be alone. Jungsoo is never too far away, but he wheels off on his own, where he can pretend that he is running and that he has the freedom to be wherever. At this point, he has picked up a few Japanese words and phrases, but he feels self-conscious, as if someone is about to catch a mistake of his, like his accent, his pronunciation, or just the lack of knowledge he has. He used to be someone knowledgeable. 

He hates that he is so slow to catch up on anything, and that any feat of learning something new is a struggle. He just wants safety, constancy, but he is always thrown into a new life, as if he’s on a train bound to nowhere, speeding through the rails, never stopping at a station to recoup. 

Alas, life goes on. Hyukjae forgets his poems back home, and they are replaced with new characters-hiragana, katakana, maybe kanji-but he thinks he is too old to uproot the old alphabet that he knew. 

He finds little joys on the fact that he can finally read street signs-even though he does not know what they mean yet. He understands basic greetings, and when Siwon or Donghae comes by to visit, he tries to make conversation, even if it’s half Korean and half Japanese. They attest that it’s how they learned Japanese. 

Progress is progress. 

So Hyukjae pretends to run in his wheelchair. The summer days chip away to a much colder autumn, and Hyukjae thinks he can outrun this season and jump into the next one and skip the longer nights. 

He can pretend for now. 

In the bustling streets of Osaka, Hyukjae catches sight of a store that sells flowers and he wheels towards it. Just as he is about to arrive, a person bumps into him hard, almost knocking Hyukjae off the wheelchair. 

Shocked, Hyukjae can only gape at the passerby, who is now glowering at him like Hyukjae had stolen his belongings.

“ _Sumimasen_ ,” Hyukjae apologizes, lowering his head. His hands are trembling and he clasps them together to keep them still. “ _S-Sumimasen_.” 

The man scowls and Hyukjae wants to evaporate on the spot. “ _Sumimasen?_ ” He repeats in a deep, tight voice. “ _That’s all_?” 

Hyukjae stares at him, confused. 

The man chuckles cruelly, and Hyukjae looks around for Jungsoo. Then, without warning, he is thrown from his wheelchair and he lands on the ground, scraping his palms against the rough pavement. He stares at the ground for what seems like forever, hating the feeling of it. He hears a faint scream for help, and he wills away the blood splatters that did not even exist on the ground before him. 

Luckily, his former servant, now friend, rushes to his aid. Jungsoo grabs his arms in an attempt to stand him up. 

“ _You’re already handicapped, you’re also rude?_ ” The man spits. “ _Ah, I see that you’re just one of those dogs from Korea._ ” 

Hyukjae shakes his head to bring himself back to reality and he frowns. While he is not very versed in long Japanese sentences, he is pretty sure that he was just insulted right at his face. 

People are beginning to speculate, and Hyukjae just wants to get away and shut himself inside his new home. He just wants to hide, but it is not so easy when there are always eyes on him. 

The man curses and yells at them some more, and then he stalks off. 

Hyukjae feels embarrassed for the first time in his life, and for the rest of the way home, he allows Jungsoo to cart him off. He lets the background noise of the city consume his thoughts-the buzz of electricity, the rush of hurried walking and the streetcars running up and down the main streets. When they arrive at the gated compound, Hyukjae spots Donghae among the beautiful lanterns in the courtyard. He is walking back and forth, his face twisted in anxiousness. 

Hyukjae does not call out to him. Donghae does not even look up, he does not even see Hyukjae come in. It seems like he is deep into his thoughts, and Hyukjae does not want to interrupt. After all, Donghae has been very busy these days. 

Jungsoo pushes him across the bridge until they arrive at Hyukjae’s new home. 

“Are you alright?” Jungsoo asks him. He carefully carries Hyukjae to the engawa. 

Hyukjae turns his head, and from here, he can clearly see Donghae pacing. Jungsoo follows his gaze, and he squeezes Hyukjae’s shoulder. 

“Hyukjae…” Jungsoo starts. There is warning in his tone.

Hyukjae looks up to his servant, who he considers his lifelong friend. Even from the beginning of his life, Jungsoo has been with him. 

They see Siwon run to Donghae, and then the two are off again, disappearing into the huge, impenetrable house. 

Later in the night, as Hyukjae is about to get settled for sleep, he hears a high-pitched wail. It continues on, and from the sound, Hyukjae finds that it comes from a human being. An infant, to be precise. 

The cries of the infant fades away, and Hyukjae closes his eyes, ignoring the heavy feeling in his chest. 

~

Donghae does not appear for days. Hyukjae continues to do his own thing. He goes to the ocean to watch it, then he goes back home. He stops making detours to explore the streets. He mulls over his new name, but it stops resonating with him. Although, his new goal is to start having people call him that. He needs to get used to his new life here. He keeps describing things and events with the word new, but the truth is, he encounters the same things everyday, has the same routines everyday and they are anything but new. 

One day, a familiar face reappears into Hyukjae and Jungsoo’s life. 

Donghae and Siwon are in the tea room overviewing the huge gardens, and with them sits Youngwoon in proper winter clothes. He still looks the same, but he is cleaned up and his hair is cut shorter. 

Hyukjae can only cry from happiness, because Youngwoon was also a servant that has been with him from the very beginning. He is anything but new in his life. He is also someone that is very dear to Hyukjae. The three of them are finally together again, just like old times. 

Donghae watches the emotional reunion with mirth in his eyes. Hyukjae notices that he seems far away in his thoughts and he wonders if Donghae will hear him if he calls for his name. 

Just as Siwon and Donghae are about to leave, Hyukjae musters up the courage to call Donghae in an attempt to get a minute with him. 

Donghae, of course, acquiesced. Without any hesitation and much to Siwon’s chagrin, Donghae eases Hyukjae onto his back and he carries him away. 

Donghae walks to a more private spot in the compound, near a smaller pond that has a small stream of water going to it from a long bamboo stick. 

“I heard what happened a few days ago from Jungsoo, I’m sorry that I was not there for you,” Donghae tells him. 

There is a stone bench in the distance and Donghae sits Hyukjae on it. He does not sit beside Hyukjae, and instead, he kneels on one knee in front of him. 

“You were busy,” Hyukjae states, trying to keep his voice steady. 

Donghae sighs, and he closes his eyes. Then, he rests his forehead on Hyukjae’s knees. “Do you know exactly what it is I do?” 

“Not really.” 

“I have a big responsibility, Hyukjae,” Donghae starts, his voice thick like he is about to cry. “I can’t tell you everything, but everything I do is very important. I hope I can explain it to you someday, but right now, I cannot make a mistake. I cannot afford to disappoint those _who_ I work for.”

Hyukjae stays silent, but he threads his fingers through Donghae’s hair. His heart lurches at this humbled sight of Donghae. It is very rare for Donghae to submit himself like this. He knows that Donghae has always been so defiant and that there is a hard will in him that makes things happen, no matter how impossible they seem. Donghae is the kind to fight for what he wants, and what he wants he gets. No matter the price. Because that is all what he had known, unlike Hyukjae, who was handed everything he could ever need. 

“Hyukjae…” Donghae murmurs, like a dazed man lost in prayer. “Hyukjae. _Eunhyuk_.” 

Hyukjae does not want to take a breath, fearing that one small change from him will ruin what they have right now. He has missed Donghae. He misses him everyday, even on the days that he is near, on his skin and his lips. 

Donghae kisses both of Hyukjae’s hands with devotion, and the moment is broken when Hyukjae is ushered onto Donghae’s back and he is carried back to Jungsoo and Youngwoon, his family, his home. 

The rest of the night is spent catching up with Youngwoon doing all the talking. Hyukjae, ever his taciturn self, listens, and he reminds himself that the small things matter. Old or new. There is good in every bad space, there is light even in the longest tunnels. There are indisputable facts that Hyukjae can never change, like the sun rising in the east, and setting in the west, and he looks to that and finds comfort in it. 

~

Small and frail as he looks, Hyukjae is very capable of moving himself around. Even if he has to roll towards his destination in mind. It was not a particular early morning, but it is a time in the morning where silence reigns. There are no automobiles cranking up in the driveway, no shouting or yelling from the main courtyard, and not even that haunting wail of the infant that Hyukjae is convinced he had hallucinated. 

The morning is still. 

Until he finds Donghae walking on the engawa, carrying a small bundle in his arms. 

Hyukjae takes a sharp intake of breath as he watches him plant a kiss on the infant’s forehead. Something stabs at his heart, and it feels more like heartbreak. 

Hyukjae wants to crawl back into his bed and wish it all away. He wants to wake up back in his bed in Korea, at least then, he is at his safest and most comfortable domain. Hyukjae wants to crawl inside and shut the shoji close forever. 

Hyukjae cannot move. 

Donghae turns, and Hyukjae knows that he was spotted. 

There is no way to erase guilt from his face, even if it is too far away to read. Hyukjae knows Donghae like he knows his own turmoil-ridden heart, and even if he is unfamiliar, Hyukjae still somehow knows him. 

And he knows that this is the part that Donghae could not tell Hyukjae about. 

Hyukjae can only look away. Like he had looked away and turned his head in tolerance with every move Donghae makes that he cannot begin to process in his mind.

~

The snow melts, and the smell of spring is thick in the air. Hyukjae is still stuck in winter, where the cold seeps deep into his bones. Hyukjae is screaming in his mind, and he goes unheard of like a tree falling in the middle of a snow-covered forest. The sound echoes, and for hours, there is nothing but the occasional chatter of Jungsoo, Youngwoon and the pitter patters of the birds chirping outside. 

He used to find comfort in writing, but it does not come easily to him anymore. It makes him think of Donghae even more, and that is not something he wants to deal with at the moment. 

However, how can he ever detest that man? There is nothing but love for him in his heart. There is nothing but a desire for understanding him. 

If he does begin to know more about Donghae, where does that knowledge put him? Closer, to his side? Or farther from him, to keep him safe? 

Donghae visits him in the middle of spring, with a cheerful baby girl in his arms. 

Hyukjae does not ask more of him, and he is immediately enamored by Lee Hyunjae, who has not seen a dark day in her life. 

Hyukjae is moved to tears, and he sighs at the life allowed in his arms. He wishes her everything good in the world. He looks at Donghae, who is apprehensive to sit beside him. 

“She’s beautiful,” Hyukjae says, his finger curled around her tiny fist. “She has your eyes.” 

Donghae bites his lip, then he gives him a small, hesitant smile. 

“You have a wife,” Hyukjae states, rocking Hyunjae gently. 

Donghae nods, not knowing what else to say. 

"What is her name?" 

"Tadamasa Shizune." 

Hyukjae looks at Donghae, something he has not done in a while. In front of him, he sees a man who has risen up from the ground, who has gained money and status through his hard work, but there is a forced happiness on him, as if he has been given too much and he could not handle it. At that moment, he understands Donghae. With power and glory, comes with more responsibilities and few choices. Once, from a lifetime ago, he was just like Donghae.

At least he keeps Donghae’s eyes in his life. At least he is a choice. 

~

Donghae surprises Hyukjae with a pair of crutches one day, where the cherry blossoms are in full bloom. Hyukjae has not attempted to train his lame legs to walk, but Donghae has repeatedly promised that he will take care of him, and apparently it included helping him walk again. All afternoon, with the assistance of Jungsoo and Donghae, Hyukjae tries to stand on the pair of crutches. 

His body trembles at the effort, and the more he is encouraged, the more he wants to quit. There is no way his legs can carry him, it has not been used for years. The only thing it has ever been was broken, and something broken is difficult to make whole. 

Donghae reassures him with a warm hand that someday, it will happen and that he will help him. 

Hyukjae doubts it, but he appreciates Donghae’s faith in him. 

The cherry blossom trees in Osaka are beautiful. On both sides of a walkway, they line each side, closing in on them. A soft breeze sways the trees, shaking off a few wayward petals. Some land on their hair, some on the ground. 

Hyukjae, heavy on Donghae’s back, is carried through this flower path. Donghae walks straight ahead, like always. They go through this flower road, just like they did so many years ago in a different land. 

Content, Hyukjae lies his head on Donghae’s shoulder. He closes his eyes, and he focuses on Donghae’s breath. 

“I’ve missed you,” Hyukjae murmurs against the side of Donghae’s neck. 

He hears Donghae swallow. “ _Na-do_.” _Me too._

Hyukjae feels Donghae’s hand come up to squeeze his hand. 

“Have you written any poems?” Hyukjae asks. The temptation to press his lips against Donghae’s neck becomes stronger in him. 

“No,” Donghae replies softly. 

People pass by them, paying them no mind. The street lanterns are beginning to be lit, and the moon rises, a little faded, since the sun has not set yet. 

“I can make one now,” Donghae supplies. He adjusts Hyukjae’s weight on his back. 

“Really,” Hyukjae challenges, a smile hinting on his lips. 

“Hm,” Donghae starts. 

_He walks on a flower road,_

_Despite the rocks on the ground,_

_Despite the people that will always pass him by,_

_Moving on to another road none the wiser._

_He will walk and he will tread,_

_This path he takes may narrow,_

_But the flowers will bloom._

_If he dares to look behind,_

_There are footsteps beside his that had stopped walking a long time ago._

Hyukjae stays quiet, his heart completely captured by Donghae’s voice and words. Finally, his lips brush against Donghae’s neck, and he hears Donghae sigh. Then, he lets out a laugh that sounds more like he is choking. 

“Perfect,” Hyukjae compliments him. “When did you get so much better than me?” 

Donghae lets out a huge exhale. “I’m a very good student.”

“That, you are.” Hyukjae spots the gated compound that they reside in. Despite the horrors it shields the public from, it is lit with beauty. 

~

Hyukjae could not bear to practice on crutches anymore. It has been days, weeks, but he has made no progress. Japanese words were easier than this. Sweat rolls down his back, as he puts one reluctant foot in front of the other. Jungsoo and Youngwoon are on either side of him, assisting his every move. 

At night, when no one is awake, Hyukjae tries again on his own. He falls, and he falls, but he grits his teeth. If he can just stand up. 

“Hyukjae,” Donghae calls in alarm. He carries a lantern beside him, the light it carries tiny and dim. 

Hyukjae is on the ground, body sweaty and dirty. He throws the crutches away from him. Donghae places the lantern beside him, and he attempts to assist Hyukjae up. 

“No,” Hyukjae cries helplessly, pushing him away.

“Hyukjae, let me help you,” Donghae pleads. 

“Donghae, what is the point?” Hyukjae cries. He wipes the tears from his face violently. “Why should I walk?”

Donghae looks away, as the tears fall from his eyes readily. 

“Donghae, I am so tired. I am so sad,” Hyukjae laments. His tears drop to the ground, the wet circles widening on stone.

“Hyukjae, I am here,” Donghae whispers. 

“How?” Hyukjae cannot control the sobs that are being beaten out of him. His body rocks from the sheer weight that he has been carrying for so long. “Donghae, how?”

“Hyukjae, I promised, didn’t I?” Donghae answers desperately. “I told you that I will make you happy, that I will take care of you.”

“Then why am I so miserable?!” Hyukjae demands, hating the malice that is laced in his voice. He did not ever want to address Donghae this way. He is not like this. “Then why am I suffering?!” 

“I saved you,” Donghae snaps, his voice bordering on shouting. He surprises even himself. “You would have perished back home! Remember that!”

Hyukjae’s breath comes out, fast and shallow. “No, no you didn’t!” He wants to scream more, but he is never really the type to get angry. 

And he can never be angry at Donghae. He is angry at life, at how far he has gone from the past. 

So he cries.

Donghae cries too. 

“It hurts so much,” Hyukjae cries. His body threatens to fall to the ground. “It hurts.”

Donghae moves towards him, and he pulls Hyukjae to his body. 

Hyukjae fights him at first, but he has only ever longed for Donghae and his touch. How could he ever turn him away. He feels bereft of everything, and now he is a starving man, desperate for scraps no matter how small. 

Is Donghae such a far thought for him? Is he so undeserving of this man that fate continues to tear him away? 

Donghae holds him, and he is swiftly transferred into his arms. Donghae carries him to his room, helps him change into a clean yukata, and then assists him to bed. 

Hyukjae holds on to Donghae, and Donghae’s body curves around his own protectively. 

"I am sorry," Hyukjae mutters, half of his mind drifting off to his dreams. "I am so sorry, Donghae." 

Donghae presses his lips against Hyukjae’s forehead, and he begins to recite their poem. 

"He walks on a flower road, despite the rocks on the ground, despite the people that will always pass him by…." 

Donghae greets the red shining sun of Japan, the land that has promised him every inch of his aspirations. 

He steps out by dawn, and he finds the lantern that he brought with him last night. The light is not diminished yet, though it flickers weakly. He picks it up, and finally, he snuffs out the flame by a quick blow of air. 

The birds begin to sing their morning song. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As for point of views, I've tried to only limit it to Hyukjae ever since chapter three-ish because I want Donghae to be a person that you can think about from Hyukjae's thoughts, and of course from yours, based on what has transpired thus far. 
> 
> Tadamasa surname is from the Yakuza leader, Tadamasa Goto. The name Shizune is not related to him, at least, not that I know of. I made it up because you know, authenticity and all XD
> 
> Coming up- Chapter 6: Years 1940-1950, WWII and the Korean War
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


	6. Years 1940-1950, World War II and the Korean War

A storm is brewing, and in the middle of it, is Donghae and his aspirations, his riches and his power. The storm comes from all around the world, and it comes in the forms of advanced weapons, of warfare spreading across oceans and land, of gases that can corrode the insides of your lungs. Dead bodies lie in wake of the storm, and if the wind catches a whiff of it, tears come out, unending to those who will only ever know the dead as memories of another day. 

  


Not even the sun can stop a storm. 

In the darkness, there is Hyukjae, with his small hopes and his resilience founded in men that truly wish to live for every moment that brings him closer to love. There is his little light that others can see except him. But even in a storm, there is darkness, and for now, it serves to cover all the pain one can carry like a blanket. 

~

Hyukjae had watched Hyunjae grow into an active toddler. Raised by her side is Choi Siwon’s son, Choi Minho, who is younger by a year. The compound is suddenly full of attentive nannies and caretakers, chasing after the two youngest members of the syndicate as they run around to wreak havoc. Sometimes, when the two kids are allowed to be alone with Hyukjae, he teaches them their native tongue, and tells them of the fairytales that only exist in the country he once knew from the past. 

He is very content to spend his time tutoring the two kids, who are more attentive and obedient–the product of being raised in a strict household that is preparing them to be something more. A bigger person than they can imagine, with purposes to make their family succeed. 

Hyukjae sees himself in them. He was young once, with a bright future. He had a family who gave him a set of morals, and imposed so many hopes on him. He had no choice but to follow. 

Somehow, even though he feels like he is from a different time, some things remain the same. 

Hyunjae runs towards him, and he straightens up to make himself look more attentive. 

“Look, _oji,_ ” Hyunjae proudly announces. “ _Na-bi_.” _Butterfly._

Hyukjae watches as Hyunjae gently places an orange butterfly on his palm, its fragile wings fluttering to show the black lines running through it. Hyukjae gently places the butterfly on his fingers, and he raises his hand up so that the butterfly can fly away. The two watch the butterfly as it carries on by itself, and then, Hyukjae turns to the girl who is his namesake. 

“Where’s Minho?” He asks, looking behind her to see if the little boy is running around by himself. 

Hyunjae shrugs. “Probably playing hide and seek.”

Hyukjae raises an eyebrow. “On his own?”

Hyunjae shrugs again, indifferent. “He didn’t make it clear he wants to play the game with me.”

Hyukjae stares at the little girl, who spoke with a straight face. Then, he laughs and he throws his head back from the joy. She surely has her mother’s demeanor. 

“Alright, well, you have to go find him because we’re about to eat lunch.”

Hyunjae scowls and lets out a sigh, something she definitely got from Donghae when he doesn’t want to do anything. “Fine.”

“Yah!” Hyunjae shrieks, sending a peaceful garden in a state of disturbance. A few birds begin to take flight from the low trees they were just perched on. 

Minho comes out stumbling from the shrubs with a huge goofy smile on his face. His big eyes crinkle into crescents, and Hyukjae fawns at the sight of them. He is such an adorable child. Well, next to Hyunjae. 

Siwon comes bounding over the bridge, with a few aides behind him, carrying food. Hyukjae watches the small procession, in search of a certain face, but these days, he is nowhere to be seen, either running around outside or cooped up inside that foreboding house–according to Siwon. 

“ _Oto-san_!” Minho exclaims and he runs up to his father and into his arms. 

Hyunjae watches them for a second, then she turns away, schooling her face into a more neutral expression. Hyukjae feels bad. Pushing away one’s feelings shouldn’t be one of the first things a child should learn. 

“Well,” Siwon greets cheerfully. “Let’s eat!”

~

After lunch and while the kids are running around again, Hyukjae and Siwon face each other, cups of tea just by their hands and gazes landing anywhere pointlessly. 

“I’m sorry to say this, but he will be gone for the rest of the week,” Siwon says. He turns slightly to his side, where a servant placed a wrapped box beside him earlier. “He did tell me to give you this.”

Hyukjae sighs and he accepts the gift. “Where is he?”

Siwon smiles at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, I’m not allowed to tell.”

“Of course,” Hyukjae states, his hands unwrapping the tall box. He opens the top and he peeks in to see a small carousel, those toys that spin with music after being wind up. “What will you tell his daughter?” 

Siwon looks mildly surprised. 

“Tell Donghae...to stay safe,” Hyukjae murmurs. He looks down at the carousel again, but instead of feeling anything joyous that the gift is from Donghae, he feels contempt and disappointment. 

At night, Hyukjae inspects the carousel again, looking for anything that might indicate that Donghae left him an important message, but there is nothing. He looks towards the open sliding doors, a sight that he is acquainted with. The night air is very still, even the trees do not rustle above him. There are no crickets chirping, no muffled shouting in the distance from the other house. In fact, it is too dark. The usual lights in the compound are not glowing with brightness. 

Suddenly, a siren starts to go off. Hyukjae’s heart drops to his stomach, and behind him, Jungsoo hauls him up and drags him into another room. Then, he snuffles out the remaining lights. The two of them sit in the dark, the sirens outside wailing as if it is the end of the world. Hyukjae reaches out and holds Jungsoo’s hand, to let his aging friend know that he does not feel scared. The sirens continue to go off, and although it is very loud and occupies every space to think, the longer it goes off, the easier it is to endure the sound. 

Their door slides open, and Hyunjae runs in, panting hard. It is too dark to make out her expression, but Hyukjae can tell that Hyunjae is upset about something. 

“Little sun,” Hyukjae calls her by the nickname that he gave her, only mentioned when Hyunjae is unable to express her feelings. “What’s wrong?” 

Hyunjae strides over assertively, and she sits herself down on the tatami, fuming. 

“Hey,” Hyukjae calls again and he takes her small hand. 

“Mother doesn’t even want you to go inside the house into the basement shelter,” Hyunjae fumes, half mumbling the rest of her sentence. 

Hyukjae doesn’t react to this, knowing that Donghae’s wife doesn’t care for him. However, the children in the household do not need to suffer from adult problems. It is not fair for them to inherit their troubles. 

“Hyunjae, it is alright,” Hyukjae reassures. “It is because we are too far from the house. Why did you run here? It is too dangerous. Your mother will be worried.”

Hyunjae pouts in the darkness, realizing her fault. She dislikes making her parents upset. 

“No matter,” Hyukjae finally says. “Next time, don’t run over here again, alright?”

Hyunjae does not answer. 

“Alright?”

“ _Hai_.” 

Although reluctant to agree, Hyukjae knows that she will heed his words. 

~

Donghae arrives earlier than expected, and the whole compound is thrown into a buzz. Everyone is running around, shouting and passing orders. Donghae walks in the middle of it, face stern and hard, like a captain braving through a stormy sea. Hyukjae gets glimpses of him, and even though he should not feel this way, he cannot help the way his heart beats happily from the eagerness to see him.

How can he miss Donghae this much? Why is he still so hopeful for the things that may never come?

He knows that this is the only way to stay by his side. To endure it all.

At the end of the day, he knows that Donghae is his. As certain as the sun will rise and fall.

Finally, _finally_ , Donghae comes to him after the chaos of the day. He discards his shoes below the engawa and he climbs up to sit beside Hyukjae.

“Did you get my gift?” Donghae asks, his voice quiet and intimate, a sound that only Hyukjae has the privilege to hear.

Even the mere timbre of his voice, the way it carries in the busy afternoon of their home sends Hyukjae into such a euphoric mood. Gone was the frustration he felt towards Donghae. What matters is that finally, _finally_ , they are allowed a moment of this.

Of just the two of them, even though the world is tearing itself apart.

Hyukjae keeps all of his thoughts and his unworded feelings to himself. Instead, he says, “Yes.”

A heavy yes, as if all of the weight of his heart can be shouldered by three letters.

“I have missed you,” Donghae whispers.

Hyukjae stares into the distance, a small smile spreading to his lips.

“ _Uncle!_ ” Hyunjae shouts cheerfully on top of the red bridge.

Donghae and Hyukjae immediately look towards her, but she freezes. Anger slights her small face from the sight of her father, and despite Donghae’s gentle beckons, she turns away.

For a moment, Donghae stares at the space where Hyunjae stood on. His sad eyes look away, as if he already knows that he is deserving of such rejection.

“Your daughter misses you,” Hyukjae replies tersely, the spell between them long broken. He wants to convey to Donghae that his absence takes its toll on his only child, that his priorities lie in the wrong place, but long sentences tire him out.

The silence pervades uncomfortably, seeking to widen the palpable distance between them, reminding Hyukjae that once again, no matter how many pulls he exerts to bring Donghae close to him, no matter how much he yearns for his mere presence, there are hurdles between them that have been set up to hinder him from making a daring jump.

Matters of the heart are always so hard to take care of.

“I’m sending the family and you to the countryside,” Donghae suddenly announces, his voice reverting to a more professional tone.

Hyukjae sighs, wanting to tell Donghae off, wanting to make him shut up and just bring back their earlier atmosphere, but he never really tells Donghae to stop. He is never the one to shackle him down.

“It’s safe there,” Donghae continues. “And well after the war…”

Hyukjae turns to Donghae, noticing the way his body tenses up, the way it does whenever he is anticipating something that he might not like.

“You might be able to go home, if you still want that,” Donghae finishes. He looks away, and clenches his fist. He still feels guilty over Hyukjae’s suffering.

Hyukjae stares at him, dumbfounded. Home? That thought is so far away. What is home to him? Is it that country that brought him into this world, that its people sold to another country?

It never occurred to Hyukjae that there will be a possibility of setting foot back to the place that took away his parents. His inheritance, his place in society. _Donghae_.

“Donghae,” Hyukjae starts, but Donghae seems to already have made up his mind.

_It’s not your fault, you did everything to help me. I didn’t mean to blame you for my sufferings_ , Hyukjae wants to tell him. _I want to stay with you_.

“Donghae,” Hyukjae utters again, and panic starts to grip his veins, constricting his body so tightly that he can barely breathe.

He gasps, the sound sharp and raw, and he reaches for Donghae. He grasps his sleeve tightly, wrinkling it. He will not let go.

Donghae turns to him, and he places his hand on Hyukjae’s face, wiping away the stray tears. He shushes him softly, trying to abate the shock taking over Hyukjae’s body.

Hyukjae grits his teeth, trying to control the panic that is making his lungs spasm. Donghae pulls him into his arms, and he holds him securely, his lips soft on his ear and his calm words unceasing. They stay like that for a while, not letting go of each other.

Finally, Hyukjae is able to gather his wits.

“I want to _be_ with you,” he murmurs tiredly.

Donghae’s heart skips a beat. Then, he presses his lips on the side of his forehead.

Donghae had promised so many things, and had proclaimed that he can now afford to promise him the world, but he cannot promise him the one thing that really matters.

“Okay,” Donghae replies and he keeps holding Hyukjae firmly.


	7. Years 1940-1950: World War II and the Korean War, part 2

In the countryside, the green hills roll back as far as the eye can see. This place seems so different from the city of Osaka, that everything seems to be slowed down, like they are commanded by a different set time that is much closer to the past. Gone were the bright street lights and the bustling streets of the port city. It is too quiet here, too quiet that one may hear another’s thoughts if they listen hard enough.

It is darker here as well, and the moon can only touch what it is able to see. The shadows are longer, and the air is much more crisp and colder. In the morning, the sun is so bright that even the ground seems to shine like polished pebbles.

Hyukjae thinks that this is what peace should feel like.

Donghae did not come with them, and had chosen to be left behind with Siwon to take care of their business. Hyukjae knows that the more he is kept in the dark about their secrets, the harder it is to reach out to Donghae, but at this point in his life, he just does not want to know. Maybe he is running away from the things that really matter, but the more he misses Donghae, the more he wanders away from him.

He is meant to keep watch from afar. At least now, Hyukjae is somehow alright to be left alone to his own thoughts. He barely feels the shadows of his past unless he invites them and picks on the scar that has long scabbed over. He has long accepted his handicap but has proven to himself that he is still able to do other things that lead to some fulfillment.

He is okay to live day by day and that is the kind of healing that he has asked and cried for every night when the pain was just too much to handle inside this broken body of his.

The days in the countryside are relatively quiet, full of routines and the occasional surprises of Hyunjae’s ability to learn anything quickly and demonstrate it to her family. Jungsoo and Youngwoon keep him company, often in silence, but it is comfortable enough to allow for tea and other niceties that Jungsoo can whip up late at night.

Sometimes they see the sky light up in the distance and the loud rumbling of fighter planes, but for the most part, they are untouchable.

If Hyukjae was not under Donghae’s protection, who knows where he would end up. He might be in the middle of the war, mistreated and left to die on the starving streets of his homeland. He hears news from Korea, and it seems like the situation has gotten a lot worse for its people. Although Japan is fighting for its hold on their new territory, there is some push against their rule from other countries.

He does not have any desire to hope for something better, but the attachment to his old country is innate. If he has to be honest, if he has the strength to do so, he will fight for it. He would want to restore how things were back then. He would want to go back home where everything is familiar to him. Donghae did tell him that if he ever wants to, he can go back.

On this particular night, Youngwoon has different ideas about their country.

Jungsoo had emphasized to Hyukjae back when his desire to go back home was stronger, that the country is struggling with its government and that women are taken for prostitution and the men are killed or drafted to do the worse jobs. The children are orphaned and starving with only the clothes on their back.

Youngwoon believes that there may be a resistance back home that is trying to take back their country. He believes this so much that he is thinking of going back.

Hyukjae sips his tea carefully, listening to Youngwoon ramble on and on about his patriotic views.

Jungsoo chirps in here and there, but the air between them is tense.

“Young lord,” Youngwoon suddenly says.

Hyukjae looks up.

“I really believe that this resistance might be able to make a difference,” Youngwoon says. “I want to go back and join them. I am asking for your permission.”

“Youngwoon,” Jungsoo interrupts.

Hyukjae sets his cup of tea carefully on the China plate. “Youngwoon, you are a free person. You no longer hold the title of my servant, in this world, you can be anyone you aspire to be. Of course you can go back home if it serves your vision.”

Youngwoon laughs joyously. “Yes! I will come back and bring you back to a better place!”

Jungsoo looks away, unable to mask the contempt he feels, but he is not the type to lash out his feelings. There is a lot he has been hiding, but for the sake of his ward, he keeps mum.

Hyukjae nods. “Very well.”

~

Donghae comes to visit, looking more haggard than Hyukjae has ever seen him. First, he greets his wife and his daughter, a hand on their faces affectionately and his eyes soft as he converses with them. Hyukjae sits apart from them and looks at anything to entertain himself. He hears Siwon getting acquainted with his son, their sentences a mix of cheerful Japanese and Korean words.

Finally, the receiving room quiets down with everyone else leaving. Donghae approaches Hyukjae, one hand holding a package.

“How is everything?” Hyukjae says before any word can be uttered. He hates this distant air between them and he wants to swipe at it to make it go away, but even his efforts to receive Donghae like he used to feels strained.

“There is still so much for us to do,” Donghae replies. “But I came here to see how everyone is doing.”

“What of the war?”

Donghae kneels in front of Hyukjae, his face grim. “None that can be considered good news for Japan.”

“Will you be affected, even if it turns out for the worse?”

Donghae places his hand on one of Hyukjae’s knees. “It depends, but our businesses on the surface are legal. We have assets overseas and we are working hard to secure them. If we need to, I will move all of us abroad.”

Hyukjae gives in and he rests a hand on Donghae’s hand. “Moving again, yes? Where to, this time?”

Donghae shrugs, the weight of the world visible by how low he can bring up his shoulder. “China, maybe, but it’s not very safe. Europe, more likely.”

Hyukjae stays quiet.

However, they know each other so well already.

“But you don’t want to go,” Donghae deadpans, resigned.

Hyukjae meets his eyes guiltily. "You said I might be able to go back."

“Hyukjae…” Donghae starts, because he never knows defeat. “You are safe with me. I am the only one who will be able to protect you.”

Hyukjae shakes his head. “Don’t say that.”

“But haven’t I?” Donghae snaps, unable to help himself. The stress of the world he forced himself manifests in his already quick-tempered self.

“Donghae, don’t start this again, you know how I feel, you know that it is not easy for me,” Hyukjae warns, his gaze darkening. “Change is not easy for me. I barely have time to acquaint myself in this place.”

“How is it not easy for you? Hyukjae, I’m here, always, I can be your constant. Hyukjae–” Donghae pauses since his words are starting to thicken. “Hyukjae, I lo–”

Hyukjae holds his breath for his words, but he gets ahead of himself and he grips Donghae’s hand. He does not let him finish. “Youngwoon thinks that there might be a chance for us to go back home.”

“Home?” Donghae repeats incredulously. The tears behind his voice is obvious now. He sounds tiny, like the inner child in him has come out. Some parts of his just never got a chance to grow up. “It’s dangerous there! Right now, there is nothing I can do to ensure you a good life there.”

“But in a few years?” Hyukjae argues. “It might be alright by then! You said if I ever wanted to, I could!"

“How do you know? We don’t know what the future holds. You of all people should know this.”

“Donghae, please,” Hyukjae is close to tears. He just wants to pacify this heated argument of theirs. “Please, let’s not talk about this right now.”

Donghae turns his head away and his jaw tightens from the gritting of his teeth. For a few moments, they do not speak. Hyukjae is still gripping Donghae’s hand, a sign that he does not want Donghae to storm off and leave him alone.

"Hyukjae, I wish to be by your side," Donghae murmurs. "But I do not know what to do."

Perhaps this is as close as Donghae can get to him.

"You keep changing your mind, it feels like we are no longer on the same page," Donghae continues.

Hyukjae leans forward to the best of his abilities and he places his other hand on Donghae’s face. "I still do want to be with you."

"Then what changed that?" Donghae meets his eyes, desperation apparent in them.

Hyukjae knows what is changing him because for the first time, he feels hope blooming in his chest. He feels stronger than before and he knows that he wants to try and stand on his own for a little bit. He will always miss Donghae and will yearn to be with him, but Hyukjae wants to find out if there is more to his desires. He wants to find himself again, to discover something about him that is not clouded by his past.

"Donghae, let's talk about this another time." Hyukjae offers a small smile, the kind that leads to a new topic. "Alright?"

Hyukjae runs his thumb on Donghae’s cheek carefully.

"I got you something," Donghae turns his head slightly to plant a quick kiss on his palm. He knows better than to push Hyukjae, lest he loses himself in breathless and uncontrollable fits.

Donghae unwraps the package he was carrying earlier, revealing a simple but elegant memorabilia box. There are cherry blossoms etched on its edges, and the top can be pulled to slide away, revealing an inner storage filled with expensive paper and writing utensils.

"It is beautiful," Hyukjae gasps.

"I'm not done yet," Donghae reveals a smug grin. There is a rectangular box, and he opens it to present a fountain pen, the kind that is used by foreigners.

"Oh," Hyukjae utters out, close to tears again.

He touches the pen, feeling its metal surface. It is a simple design, black with a thin line of silver in the middle to indicate where to slide a new ink cartridge in.

“If you ever change your mind,” Donghae murmurs.

Donghae shrugs and he puts them down for later. He meets Hyukjae’s eyes again, and finds a dying fire stoked into life inside of him. He pulls Hyukjae to him easily, and Hyukjae gives in with a small gasp.

Hyukjae’s legs are unfeeling and they lie limp under him. Donghae carefully assists him up, which Hyukjae can do now; as long as he is able to carry himself with his arms, he is able to move around.

Donghae carries him towards his room and closes the door with a weak kick. The door shuts with a click and Donghae lays Hyukjae on his bed, gently like he always handles Hyukjae.

Hyukjae stares up, a subtle pink coloring his cheeks. He looks away, unable to maintain his eye contact for long. Donghae has always been so intense, and his eyes are always open so anyone can see into his heart. Donghae leans forward slowly so he does not startle Hyukjae, and then he slides his arms forward to Hyukjae’s sides to frame him with a possessive intent.

Donghae finally closes the space between them, but his kiss on Hyukjae’s lips is chaste. When he pulls away, Hyukjae automatically follows, but Donghae has already ducked down to his neck, nudging the flesh he never knew that arouses him even more.

“Donghae, what are you doing?” Hyukjae breathes out. The more Donghae caresses his skin with his mouth, the harder it is for him to breathe.

“I can stop,” Donghae teases.

“I–” Hyukjae consciously reaches for Donghae’s hand. “I am not used to this.”

They have never gotten this far in intimacy. Hyukjae feels like a child again, needing guidance because he is too shy to take his own initiative.

“Let me take care of you,” Donghae tells him seriously.

He kisses Hyukjae’s hand, his demeanor sure and steady as always. He makes Hyukjae fall open before him, not withholding anything.

Donghae takes off Hyukjae’s clothing, opening them to expose his pale chest and carefully sliding them off his shoulder.

Hyukjae looks away, feeling a little ashamed of himself. Years of being unable to walk on his own feet makes him feel like he is lacking in so many areas. He is not sure if he will even feel himself aroused waist down, even though his legs are the only ones damaged.

Donghae covers his body with his own, pressing his own naked torso upon his. His body is hot and heavy and it makes Hyukjae squirm underneath him.

“What is it?” Donghae murmurs against his mouth.

“I don’t know,” Hyukjae whispers.

Donghae kisses his lips again, this time a little harder that it takes Hyukjae’s breath away. Then, he makes Hyukjae pliant under him by kissing down his jaw and his neck, down his chest and to his navel. Each kiss quickens Hyukjae’s breath and Donghae holds on to him, his hands warm on his skin, kneading.

Hyukjae pulls Donghae closer to him, realizing that he can be selfish like this, to make him his own like this.

His back arcs towards Donghae delicately, and he suppresses the whimpers that are coming out of his mouth. Every sensation is too much for him to handle–that Hyukjae feels his mind lose itself. It sends him to a height undiscovered by him.

The door suddenly opens, revealing Hyunjae behind it, her tiny hand on the knob of the door. The intrusion shatters the spell between Donghae and Hyukjae, and it sends Hyukjae crashing down from his euphoria. Shame spreads through Hyukjae’s body like a wildfire.

Hyunjae stares at them, dumbstruck. Then, she turns around to run away, leaving the door open.

“Hyunjae,” Hyukjae says, his voice completely devoid of emotions. Then, as if he just now processed what happened, he pushes Donghae off of him with as much force as he can muster.

“Hyukjae, wait,” Donghae pleads.

Hyukjae succeeds in pushing Donghae off of him and he quickly covers himself up and turns away.

“Go,” Hyukjae snaps, feeling numb. “Get out.”

“Hyukjae...I–”

“Your daughter needs you.”

Hyukjae closes his eyes to wish him away, while Donghae slowly gets himself together. It almost took forever, but Donghae finally left and Hyukjae allowed himself to breathe.

He muffles the sob that is forcing its way out by pushing his face into the pillow.

How can he think he can make Donghae his? That will never be the case.

I will never be with him, Hyukjae thinks sadly. Even if I stay by his side.

Hyukjae cries for a long time, coming to terms that what he wanted was never on the table at all. He thought that he could be content to just be able to see Donghae, but now that his flesh is awakened by him, his heart and his mind are in disarray and he is not sure if he is alright with just his presence.

He is fully and utterly in love with Donghae. He is so consumed by him that even logic passes over his head.

However, he also loves his daughter like his own and he cannot keep this side affair going. It is not right for a child to see that her father’s heart lies in someone else that is not her mother. He knows himself that this is such an old-fashioned way of thinking, but he cannot help it. He was raised like this.

There are still chains that his upbringing still reign over him.

~

Hyunjae avoids Hyukjae like the plague, and instead, spends more time with her mother who is instilling their family values into her like a hammer hitting a nail. Hyukjae is sorry towards her, but there is nothing he can do to appease her at the moment. There are some things Hyunjae might not be able to understand, no matter how impressionable she is at her age. It is not like her upbringing is carefree and open-minded.

A few days has passed since his last moment with Donghae, and no matter how hard the other pestered him for his attention, Hyukjae disciplined himself to not give in. It is taking all of his will to keep rejecting Donghae.

A week later, Donghae is leaving again and this time, he is bringing Youngwoon with him. Once they are back in Osaka, Youngwoon will take the next ship to Korea. Their goodbyes were brief, with Donghae telling Hyukjae that he will look for a way to give him passage back to the country in a safer way after the war.

Hyukjae listens with one ear in order to block out the loud tearing of his heart.

He feels Donghae give him a long stare, but he keeps his eyes away until he feels his presence disappear, until he is just a small blot in the distance.

~

“Hyung,” Minho calls in that strange tone of his, probably due to being raised into speaking Japanese.

These days, Hyukjae has allowed Minho to be informal with him, instead of following the tiring honorifics that comes with their upbringing. Of course, they only speak like this to each other, but Hyukjae finds that Minho’s Korean drastically improves whenever he is talking casually like this with him.

"Yes?" Hyukjae responds with a small smile.

"I-" Minho looks towards the voice calling his name. "Maybe later! I have to go and study!"

Minho gives Hyukjae an apologetic look, an expression that kids should only direct towards kids their own age after a small fight over a game. Then he sprints away towards the strict voice calling his name.

Hyukjae sighs, but he thinks nothing of it. He will just have to catch Minho later.

Hyukjae rarely sees the two kids since they are busy studying with Donghae’s wife, Shizune, and their new official tutors. They have been learning how to fight, how their family is connected to other yakuza families, how their position as heirs is just as important of a role as any other member. From this, they learn that just because they are privileged does not mean they should let good days pass them by.

Hyukjae admits that he misses teaching them, especially since it is so easy to have them learn new things. They are both smart in their own ways and sometimes too curious for their own good, a sign Hyukjae observes to be a good thing.

They have their family backing them up, and because their family seems to thrive through deeper connections, Hyukjae is not too worried about them. He knows that the two of them will be successful in their own right, no matter what path they take. Especially Hyunjae, his namesake, his hope for the good things to come.

He longs for the things that were, but he feels himself growing, his thoughts becoming more refined and composed, compared to the person who arrived on the land of Japan years ago. He was a young chick just fresh out of its hatch, and now he has grown into a full-fledged bird, shaking its wings to take flight.

However, a part of him is still willing to be chained down. There is Donghae, sweet and courageous Donghae. He can never think too badly of him. He is the sun, a man who made his own path with his bare hands. Hyukjae yearns to follow after his steps, to run and match his stride.

He wonders if it will be possible.

He knows he is wavering in his decision to let Donghae go, but his heart still pines for him.

He always will.

~

Choi Siwon arrived in the spring of 1945 in the countryside, alone.

Although he still is his normal reassuring self, Hyukjae senses that there is something wrong. Siwon converses with Shizune, and then he sits down with Hyukjae and Jungsoo, his face morphing into a more somber expression.

“I do not know how to say this,” Siwon begins. He glances at Hyukjae and Jungsoo’s faces.

Hyukjae swallows, worried about Donghae. “What is it?” He whispers.

“I...I came with the news that your friend, Youngwoon has died,” Siwon slowly says, making sure to look them in the eyes.

Hyukjae feels time stop, and he gapes at Siwon. At first, he wants to laugh from the shock because this is strong and sure Youngwoon, whose intuition never failed him. Surely he can get out of whatever challenging situation put upon him.

However, from Siwon’s serious face, Hyukjae feels hot tears pouring down.

“W-what?” He breathes out. “How?”

Siwon looks down. “Right now, the country of Korea is split into north and south. Our sources say that he became some sort of assistant to the army stationed south of Korea...the northern Korean army invaded his location. He was killed in the crossfire.”

Jungsoo takes a deep breath, and then he stands up. He gives Siwon a hard look, and then he stalks away, his hands curled into fists.

Hyukjae wipes his tears away. “How bad is the situation there?”

Siwon gives him a sad smile. “At this point, we can only see it worsen.”

Hyukjae nods glumly, feeling very numb. “I...think we should at least burn some paper bills for Youngwoon.”

Siwon acquiesces. “Alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with another update!!!
> 
> I also had to correct information on chapter 1, but it will not affect the story since it was just a date mishap.
> 
> Thank you for reading <3
> 
> up next: 1950-onwards, China, South Korea and United States
> 
> we will finally get to the meat, the dreaded part to what happened to Donghae !!!


	8. Years 1950-onwards, China, South Korea and United States

In the family that Donghae heads, it has long been decided for Hyunjae to marry Minho even before their birth. Arranged marriage was not a forlorn idea in the household Donghae married into because status and power had given them few choices over whom to marry; besides it was expected of them to be in one at the end of the day. A marriage is a deal, a transaction, a kind of unity that will benefit families. It expands one’s dynasty, and it will last as long the family carries on their traditions.

Donghae was never a man of tradition. He was a fisherman’s son, and he had labored since he could talk and understand the value of money in his life. All his life, he believed that he would die a poor man, with no hope to ascend through the ranks that society placed well before his time. Then, Heechul took him in as a kid and brought him to Japan.

In Japan, he learned how to be business savvy, and had acquired a good judgement for money matters. He had hardened his heart as well because being a member of a yakuza is not all smiles over dinner tables to seal a deal. There was only so much blood he could wash his hands free of.

Then, there is Hyukjae. Beautiful and ungraspable Hyukjae. He sat in such a high place in society, in Donghae’s mind and heart. He was an unattainable goal– he would never be enough of a man to be able to stand by his side.

Donghae had always thought that position in society is the one thing that matters, but as the years progressed and the world dove into a new age of technology and war, the old ways are left behind in the past as a memento.

  


The only ones who have held onto the past were him and Hyukjae.

Despite his chase for money and evolution to the person he is now, he will never be able to move on from the person he was from back then; starving and callous Donghae, but most of all, in possession of such an immeasurable amount of love for Hyukjae. The teenager in him that had met Hyukjae has not grown up, and so long that he stunts his growth, the longer he will be able to walk with Hyukjae.

His life is a fire, bright and engulfing. Like a match striked against the rough surface of its box, it serves a purpose to light the way.

And then, just as quickly as it was sparked, it dwindles into nothing, replaced by a hazy smoke, barely reminiscent of the vivid light it produced.

~

Youngwoon’s funeral was quick and almost forgettable, if not for Hyukjae and Jungsoo spending all night to burn paper money for him. The household led by Donghae’s wife, Shizune, gave them a private space, but because Korean traditions are not very familiar with her, they skipped the funeral rites altogether.

Hyukjae thought that he won’t be affected by Youngwoon’s death and that he’ll immediately get over it, having seen too many deaths in his life. However, he was very wrong. Past servant or not, Youngwoon was family to him. He was there throughout his life, and had practically raised him since he was a child with Jungsoo.

Jungsoo is not doing well either. He had turned silent, just like Hyukjae had a long time ago when he lost his parents, and he had this faraway look as if he was searching for something in the distance.

Hyukjae is very acquainted with the feeling of grief, and he understands what Jungsoo is feeling so he stays with Jungsoo. He becomes a person that stays by his side, just in case Jungsoo feels the need to hold on to someone.

Choi Siwon also stayed with them throughout the night, silent but a strong, supportive presence. He was raised in Japan as a child, but it doesn’t cut his ties to these people. They are like his family now.

When the night is over, they move on with their lives the way they knew how: by walking forward and keeping their eyes straight ahead.

~

He walks on a flower road,

Despite the rocks on the ground,

Despite the people that will pass him by,

Moving onto another road none the wiser,

He will walk and he will tread,

Flowers will bloom and this path will narrow,

If he dares to look behind,

There are footsteps beside his that had stopped walking a long time ago.

The war is over, and Hyukjae’s old country has been split into two. Gone was the place he thought he knew. Each side was replaced by different governments, and despite the change in power, the country is trying to make sense of some order above the chaos. He thinks of his people toiling in their country, their language and their traditions murky under all the influences of the other countries.

The move back to their huge home was a quiet and smooth transition.

Donghae had accompanied his family in their new car–a Cadillac coupe that is painted black. They are followed by their security detail, and right after them is Minho and his mother, and then their own detail. Hyukjae and Jungsoo came last, their own guards in the same car with them.

The streets of Osaka were devastated by the war. Only a few establishments remain and most were just rubble. Injured people walked the streets, thin and starving. Some children were playing over slabs of broken walls, or fishing for their lost belongings. Dead bodies lie on the street in an orderly line.

As they head home towards the untouched part of Osaka, Hyukjae sees lines of people lining up for food, small and cracked bowls supported by their ash covered hands.

Hyukjae feels relief that their home remained untouched for the most part, but then he feels ashamed almost immediately. Easily, he could have been one of these unfortunate people. It was only through Donghae’s family that he was alive.

Their cars slow down to avoid injuring the crowds in the area, and Hyukjae watches from his window, deeply saddened at the haggard faces that he catches a glimpse of.

He clenches his fists, and for the life of him, he cannot ignore them.

He rolls his window down.

“Hyukjae-” Jungsoo warns.

Hyukjae grits his teeth, and grabs the snacks placed on Jungsoo’s lap conveniently.

“Okosama,” Hyukjae calls. " _Children!_ "

A few kids jog beside their car to keep up.

“Fuck, stop the car!” Hyukjae snaps at the driver. “Yamete kudasai!”

The car halts, lurching its passengers forward.

“Share these among you,” Hyukjae instructs the children and hands them the snacks. He reaches to his belongings and pulls out all the Japanese money he currently possesses.

“Distribute these, do not keep them to yourselves. Give them to your parents.”

The children stared at him.

“Come to that red house in the distance next week if it isn’t enough,” Hyukjae says, surprising himself that he did not stutter at all. “If I find that you all spent this without thought…”

One of the taller kids bowed from respect.

“Domo arigatou…”

Hyukjae nods, and he bites his lower lip to keep himself from crying. Then, he rolls up the window and lets the driver start the car again.

When they arrive at the big compound, more people flock to them led by Siwon, and they flank the family on each side while the other members of their detail surround the area, keeping watch for any threats or to turn away the other people who were affected by the war in the city.

The sight is so sickening to look at for Hyukjae. The big gap between him and these people in need, and the fact that he had lived his life so far away from them, it makes his insides curl in shame. People who work everyday to survive the next one did not even grace his thoughts deeply. He keeps thinking of those starve children, with their soot covered faces. Their wide eyes that have seen so much violence.

As soon as Hyukjae was assisted out of their car, his head suddenly felt light and he fell away from the person assisting him.

“Hyukjae!” Jungsoo shouts in alarm.

Hyukjae retches and suddenly vomits the contents of his stomach to the ground.

“Hyukjae!” Donghae calls above his head.

Hyukjae shivers, and his body gives up on him. He loses his consciousness, unaware that Donghae had pushed everyone aside to catch him.

~

Hyunjae and Minho are now fifteen years old, the age when Donghae and Hyukjae first met. The age where most children become an adult. Age is but a number, at the end of the day.

Versed in familial duty, the two teenagers are preparing for the biggest event of their life.

While the streets of Osaka are drenched with tears and roaming hungry people, the house is brimming with celebration. Hyukjae only hears of the main events, such as the Nakamoto family coming by to bestow Hyunjae and Minho with many gifts and pledging their allegiance to the union. The Nakamoto family is a small yakuza from up north and is distantly related to one of Shizune’s cousins. Though small, their influence in their region is growing and of course, the household of Donghae and Shizune seeks to cement their family’s name so that the future generations can reap on what they have sowed.

Hyunjae and Minho are kept apart for almost a month, each learning how to be a wife and a husband respectively, each learning how to contribute into a dynasty that they will someday inherit.

Hyukjae hears of a Kim Heechul, but the name does not mean anything to him. His name reverberates in the household, and Donghae reserves a great veneration for the old man.

Their home accepts guests almost everyday, some meeting with Hyunjae or Minho, and some taking up both Donghae and Shizune’s time. Food is served bountifully, and jugs of sake are emptied.

Hyukjae stays by Jungsoo, looking across the red bridge for a glimpse of Donghae.

~

Hyunjae turns up on the engawa of Hyukjae’s small house in the morning of her wedding, a look of anxiety written over her usually cool demeanor. Her long, silky black hair is down, uncombed but straight. Her night clothes are covered with a haori, and she tightens it around herself as she waits for Hyukjae to wake.

Jungsoo finds her first.

“Is uncle awake?” Hyunjae almost whispers.

Jungsoo smiles in that patient way of his. “The tea is almost ready. I will go get your uncle.”

Hyunjae nods, and she plops herself down on the engawa. She watches the small yard in front of her, reminiscing of the days where she didn’t have to worry much about marriage or producing an heir and a spare for her family. She is not even in her twenties, but she feels so much pressure on her shoulders.

Hyukjae arrives, and Jungsoo assists him on the spot beside her.

“Hello, Hyunjae,” Hyukjae greets gently. “It’s been a while.”

Hyunjae clutches herself, as if it will squeeze out the anxiety she is feeling.

“Are you alright, child?” Hyukjae prompts.

Hyunjae swallows a lump. “I am not.”

Hyukjae gives her a reassuring smile. “Why not? It’s your wedding day.”

Hyunjae shrugs. “It is...but I feel like my life will stop today. I haven’t even seen what life is out there. I love Minho, but...I am not...I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

Hyukjae chuckles. “Yes, you do. You just told me.”

Hyunjae draws her knees towards her chest and pouts, a sign of her childishness. “I am not ready.”

“My child,” Hyukjae utters. “No one is really ever ready for life. Marriage will not stop you. Minho respects you very much and is ready to lay down his life to protect you. He will be your partner in life, so confide in him. He will be your best friend, your number one supporter. You know the kid, hyper but he is always kind.”

Hyunjae starts to smile, the corner of her lips lifting up. The small movement immediately lights up her face.

“Few of us are so lucky to have someone for life.” Hyukjae reaches over to pat Hyunjae on her head. “The two of you are the masters of your fate. You decide where to take your life.”

Hyunjae’s eyes are as expressive as her father’s. Hyukjae can already see the gears turning in her head.

“If I have a daughter, which by the way, I’m not ready to have children so you all have to wait for a long time,” Hyunjae blabbers. “I think I’ll name her Eunae.”

Hyukjae laughs, his heart feeling very light in a while. “Grace with love. I like it.”

Hyunjae grins. “I’m naming her after you and my father.”

Hyukjae raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

The mischievous glint in her eyes shine like pearls. “You’ll just have to find out.”

~

The two teenager’s ceremony had a heavy and meaningful air. Important family members are seated in the front, while those who had a lower status sat in the back. Hyunjae is dressed in white kimono, with a huge white bonnet on her head, covering a simple headdress, which she had opted for since the fancy ones added weight to her hair. Minho is dressed in a black kimono and black haori that has his family crest, striped pants, and with a himo on the front.

Everyone was silent as the shinto priest performed rituals over them. Soon, it was time for them to drink three cups of sake each, symbolizing their exchange of marriage vows. Their parents also drank three cups each, the ritual of uniting their families.

Each round of cups is meaningful. One cup for every flaw–ignorance, hatred, passion– and for the last three, the freedom from these flaws, the cutting of every sins of the past for a blank slate, and to take the reigns from those who held onto the old ways and lead them into the future.

The weight of their union is thick in the air as they offer small tree twigs into the shrine, finalizing their bond, their interwoven fate.

It is finished.

Just like that, a chapter of Hyukjae’s life is closed and he is thrown into the next one without warning.

~

Everyday, Hyukjae presses Donghae with his silent question.

When will he get to go back?

Donghae always replies with “Soon, when the country has settled itself.”

Hyukjae doesn’t know what the country holds for him, but he feels the land calling for him, as if it is striving to be the place he will rest in. He feels determined in a way he never felt before, so he hopes there is merit to that. Besides, Jungsoo is with him. He will not be completely alone.

Every other day, the newlyweds come to visit him for tea and snacks, and in some days, he helps them with giving aid to the people of Osaka.

Hyunjae had made it a project to bring their city together, so she volunteers her time in orphanages or the hospital. Minho accompanies her sometimes, and when he is not, he is following Siwon and Donghae around, picking up on their business instincts. The two are young, but they are already a good team.

Donghae avoids him now, and when he has to face Hyukjae, his temper gets the best of him. Hyukjae is still fighting to distance his heart from Donghae, and all their disagreements about the little things had started to teem over into their lives, but when no one is looking, their longing is louder than all of their fights.

Hyukjae wants to talk with him, to make peace, but Donghae is adamant, unwilling to let go. His fist is around the red chord that ties Hyukjae to his last destination.

And finally, one day, in the middle of summer, Donghae grudgingly lets him go.

They are sitting in the engawa, the dusk fresh in the sky. Donghae holds a cup of cold tea in his palm, and there is a resigned look on his face.

Hyukjae’s determination knows no bounds, and when he could not walk physically, somehow, he had managed to pick himself up and had left Donghae behind.

“You can go,” Donghae says softly.

The surroundings are shaded with a darkening blue hue, enhancing the shadows on Donghae’s face.

Hyukjae turns to him, surprised.

“You can go next week. I have made arrangements to where you can stay. It will be safe there,” Donghae continues, his voice growing quiet by each moment. “Eunhyuk.”

Donghae says his new name, so unused and foreign that it doesn’t sound right, but he can’t really say his real name either.

“You can visit me,” Hyukjae reassures him, although he knows that it might not happen at all. “You can send Minho and Hyunjae over too. I’d love to have them.”

Donghae sets his cup down. “I don’t think so.”

Hyukjae nods, but he cannot say anymore. He understands.

But why is his heart shattering?

Donghae moves, and Hyukjae blinks rapidly, unsure what Donghae is up to until he is getting closer, and even closer. Hyukjae closes his eyes in anticipation, and Donghae delivers, his huge hands warm on his face and his mouth on Hyukjae’s lips, devouring him, sucking his breath away but Hyukjae doesn’t break away. He opens his mouth to let Donghae even closer, he doesn’t need air, not when Donghae is here.

Selfishly, he kisses Donghae, and the love of his life kisses him just as hard.

Donghae lowers Hyukjae to his back, and he keeps kissing him. He had lost all of his inhibitions, there is nothing more of himself that he wouldn’t give to Hyukjae, but this is the best he can do. This is the only thing he can do. Everything, from before, it was not enough for Hyukjae and he knew that. He knew he had only given him a quarter of what he deserved.

Then, Donghae breaks apart, abrupt, like a period to a sentence that wasn’t quite complete.

Hyukjae lets him go, their poem echoing loud in his ears.

He walks on a flower road,

Despite the rocks on the ground,

He walks on a flower road….

Hyukjae tries to fight the sob racking his chest, but it bursts out like a cord pulled from its plug violently.

In the distance, in the darkness of the bright lanterns, Donghae caves on his knees, and the hard stones on the ground dig against his skin.

~

You are the masters of your fate, Hyukjae told Hyunjae once. You decide where to take your life.

If only he can practice what he preaches.

Donghae does not see him off.

Choi Siwon accompanies them instead, claiming to have some business in China, which is one of their stops on the way to Mokpo, South Korea.

Hyukjae and Jungsoo embark on a ship, no longer carrying the insignia of the empire of Japan.

Once they have stepped out of the Land of the Rising Sun, Hyukjae decides that he should and might as well practice what he preaches. He is not entirely sure what he can do back home, home, but he is not without ability. He still holds knowledge about his native language and customs, maybe he can help those who are jaded and buried underneath imposing Japanese influences.

Yes, there is something. And that possibility makes Hyukjae feel peace in his heart.

~

Donghae wakes up, disoriented and heavy, as if weights are attached to his legs. He has been drinking for days, ever since Hyukjae left. His absence is a hole in his life, and he hates himself for letting him go. He hates himself for not being able to give up anything.

Donghae looks to the distance, to the house that Hyukjae emptied. Even the beautiful gardens of this place look gilded.

He wants to hate Hyukjae for leaving him, for healing enough to break away from him, but he knows he can never really despise him. Donghae is always so weak for Hyukjae, that he is willing to do just about anything.

He stays on his bed for a while, and he watches the shadows dance around his room. Then, he makes up his mind.

He will follow Hyukjae to Mokpo. He will stay with him. He will be with him. He will apologize to him, and promise him one last thing, that he will make Hyukjae smile for the rest of his life.

Donghae procures a piece of paper and a writing utensil. He can get to Mokpo pretty quickly and surprise Hyukjae on his arrival, he just needs to make some quick arrangements. He knows the in and outs, he knows what dangers to avoid. He can get there.

Wait for me, Donghae finishes on the paper. Just in case Hyukjae arrives in Mokpo earlier than him.

~

The port of Shanghai is crowded. Hyukjae feels suffocated that he wanted to cry, but Jungsoo is with him, and he calms down after Siwon checks them in a hotel further inland. They are free to explore wherever they want for the next following days, since Siwon is going to be doing his own thing.

Hyukjae doesn’t really want to go outside, but Jungsoo urges him and together, they visit the open markets, content to observe the bustling life before them. Hyukjae is not much of a participant, but he quite enjoys being a spectator, observing everyone to learn and pick up what people do.

In the hotel, Hyukjae picks up telephone calls from Hyunjae, who have caught wind of where he is staying from her father in law. Hyunjae tells him the day to day business, her volunteer times and about peculiar people that she had met. Hyukjae listens, because he is always the one listening.

In one of those days in Shanghai, Hyunjae tells him a shocking secret.

“Minho and I decided to flee Osaka in a few days,” Hyunjae tells him one night.

Hyukjae is silent for a moment, unsure if he heard Hyunjae right. The girl has been committed to her duties in Osaka, it is impossible that she is suddenly uprooting the life that she knows.

“Uncle?”

“I apologize. What?”

Hyunjae tells him again, lowering her voice. “Minho and I decided to run away. I...I was thinking about what you said, how my life is never over. I don’t want this yakuza life, I want to experience more, and I think moving away might be best for the family Minho and I are going to build.”

“Hyunjae...slow down, what are you talking about?” Hyukjae’s mind is completely blank. There are too many things Hyunjae is saying.

“Hm...uncle? You’ll be a grandfather soon,” Hyunjae giggles. “I’m pregnant!”

Hyukjae is flabbergasted.

“Uncle?”

“I-I don’t know what to say. You two are so young…” Hyukjae starts, although back in his past life, having children young was a normal thing.

Hyunjae laughs. “I know, but well. I don’t know. I just know I don’t want our children to grow up in an environment we grew up in.”

Hyukjae sighs. “Congratulations. May you be graced with many children.”

“Thank you, uncle.” Hyunjae pauses. “Please keep this a secret from our parents.”

Hyukjae laughs, genuine and sweet. “Of course, I will.”

~

Siwon receives a phone call in his hotel room.

Hyunjae and Minho had disappeared without a trace. Their family’s heirs and hope for the future, abruptly put a pause in the empire that they have been building.

Siwon is at first, angry. He wants to sail back to Osaka and rip up the city to shreds, but he realizes that if the two did not want to be found, they will not be found. They have taught them too well.

Then, he receives another phone call. This time, much more heart-wrenching than his son running away with his new wife.

“Donghae has been captured in North Korea,” one of the people on his payroll informs him. “He was bound for Mokpo, but his detail bailed on him and abandoned him. He is currently jailed, accused as a spy.”

Siwon curses. “Can’t you get him out? Assemble a team or something?”

“I’m sorry, sir. The government is listening in on us and cracking down on us. This is all I can say.”

“Fuck,” Siwon grits out. He slams the phone down and grips his hair.

He needs to get out of Shanghai. He needs to bring Hyukjae to Mokpo, and go from there to rescue Donghae.

And Hyukjae cannot know about this.

~

Siwon herds them out of Shanghai at midnight, and he had paid one of the best fishermen to take them to the shores of Mokpo. He does not have a lot of time. He can only keep himself sane for so long. If he didn’t know better he would dive into the cold sea and swim to land.

Hyukjae observes that Siwon is frustrated and tense, but he does not pry.

Siwon keeps pacing, until Jungsoo calls him to sit down and eat something. Siwon acquiesces, and he composes his face so that he cannot reveal anything.

It will be a long night.

~

Mokpo manifests as a tiny blue land in the distance. Siwon had thought that it might take them a little longer, but in two days, they are so close.

Hyukjae smiles, although he is tired from the journey. His handicap is hindering him, and his body is in pain. He puts Siwon’s restless energy to the back of his mind, and focuses on the new life that is upon him.

He thinks of Hyunjae and Minho, who are also on a journey to their new life, to their new family in another place. The world is huge, and there are so many good possibilities. He wishes his namesake the best, the only child he will ever consider as his own.

At noon, they are able to set their feet down on land. Siwon almost takes off running, if not for Hyukjae and Jungsoo depending on him to guide them.

Siwon literally dumps them to his wards waiting, and he goes off, taking some people with him in a hurry.

Hyukjae is worried, but his anxiousness is taken away by their new guide, Ryeowook. He is pretty, and had a very nice calming voice that Hyukjae thought he was singing to them. Ryeowook claims to be good friends with Siwon, and sets off to show them their new place.

He leads them to their room, and points them to where his own room is just in case they need help. He shows them the kitchen, the small garden in the back, and then the reading room, where shelves of books lined the walls.

Ryeowook keeps talking to fill in the silence, and then he leaves the two tired travellers on their own and promises to cook up a huge meal for them for dinner.

When left to his thoughts, Hyukjae thinks of Siwon again, who is acting weird. He never acts like a wild animal being cornered. Siwon is always calm and composed, with that million dollar smile on him that never cracks under the most impossible business deals.

But here is Siwon, who seems to be running for his life.

Has he found out about Hyunjae and Minho yet?

_Those troublesome kids..._

Hyukjae lies down on his quick, makeshift bed and sighs. He can’t really relax as there are too many things running in his mind. Not only is he excited for tomorrow, but he is also worried for Hyunjae and Minho and for their growing baby, for Siwon and his secretive actions, and for Donghae.

He thinks of Donghae until his eyes are heavy with sleep. Until he thinks he can hear Donghae’s voice calling for him and his warmth on his skin like he is beside him.

~

Donghae is cold, alone and hungry.

He hears shouts outside his dirty cell, and from what he can make out, it is morning since he can see the rotten food on the floor. His body aches, and he is too tired to gather his wits.

He thinks of Hyukjae, who must be in Mokpo right now, resting and eating. He thinks of his daughter, Hyunjae, who had grown up to be so beautiful and smart that the world seems so inferior compared to her. He thinks of his wife, Shizune, cold and calculating, but nonetheless a strong and supportive presence by his side. She was always so good to him, and Donghae will forever feel sorry towards her for not giving her all of him.

He thinks of Siwon and his son Minho, even thinks of Kim Heechul, Jungsoo and Youngwoon.

How can he rise up so high that when he looks behind, his wings have fallen away? He is now hurtling towards the ground with sickening speed and Donghae fears to face what is coming.

He closes his eyes.

The door of his cell opens, and the light almost blinds him. He is doused with cold water and he is carried away.

He feels their fists and their booted feet, the cold metal of a gun beating into him.

Hyukjae.

Lee Hyukjae.

He couldn't say his name before.

Donghae crawls on the ground. No, he will not fear what is coming. He will face them head on, like he had always done. He is a fire, a force. Once he is ignited, he shines bright and strong, burning everything in his path.

Until he is diminished, until he is gone.

Until the light fades from his vision.

_He walks on a flower road…._

_He will walk and he will tread… Hyukjae….._

_Flowers will bloom and his road will narrow…._

_Hyukjae..._

_He walks on a flower road._

Donghae, like a match set against a candle, is whisked away by a sudden wind, snuffed out. His life dwindles to nothing, replaced by a hazy smoke, barely reminiscent of the vivid life it produced.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! We have 2 chapters left! As you all know, I did say this is going to be tackling some generational events so while there will still be Hyukjae, it would be slightly focused on the events leading to the first chapter, where Eunae, the granddaughter of Donghae, meets Hyukjae to close their story.
> 
> Up next: Onwards to 2005, United States, Japan and South Korea
> 
> Final: 2005, South Korea
> 
> and of course: author's notes
> 
> Hope to see you at the end :)


	9. Onwards to 2005, United States, Japan and South Korea

Hyunjae’s forehead is wrinkled, and she is pale and clammy, and no matter how much rest she takes, there is a feeling of uneasiness all over her body. Maybe it is her body changing due to pregnancy, and the stress of travelling and the fear of being followed by their family.

There is no food she can keep down other than bread and the soup that they serve in the mess hall of the ship. Hyunjae can barely sleep and so there are nights where she walks all around the deck until she can no longer walk back to their cabin and Minho comes to find her.

The events of the past few days were a lot to process. First, the two of them had to find their own private time to prepare their escape to America. Luckily, their parents encouraged them to spend more time with each other to get acquainted with being married. When they happen to go out to volunteer and help out the kids in the orphanage, Hyunjae brought up the subject of having children.

Both admitted that they did not want their own children to grow up the way they did. Especially Minho, who had to grow out of his cheesy smiles and tamper his natural hyperactive demeanor. The two of them had to train at a young age to be passive and not express every emotion they have, but growing up with Hyukjae and Donghae made them see that it is better to express your cares and your feelings to someone you are close with.

They also wanted children who should not know how to kill someone or how to pull a rug under somebody’s feet. They wanted their children to grow up loved and free to make their own choices.

Hyunjae secretly funneled some money for travelling, and their expenses abroad. She also packed clothes in advance, choosing to reserve a hotel near the docks to put their stuff in until the right time came for them to leave. Of course, she did not expect their plan to be perfect, but she figures that putting an ocean between their family and them would give them an advantage. At least they did not have an actual permanent location to settle in yet.

Meanwhile, Minho bought their tickets under his cousins’ names and their ship leaves late at night, luckily.

It will be a while before they can let go of their breaths.

~

Hyunjae’s pregnancy does not get any better over the course of their sea voyage. In fact, it made her all the more intolerant of every little thing. She did not want to be taken care of, but when Minho leaves her alone to give her some space, she cries and feels abandoned. She is restless, and there are times when she is weak and deathly pale.

Hyunjae knows a thing or two about pregnancy, but the uneasiness she felt at the beginning is growing and she has no one to confide in. It made her question her every move. Sometimes she even feels like she is not doing the right thing, having been made to think that obedience is righteousness and a sign of respect in her family.

At night, while the sea pounds against the ship, when it is tolerable enough for Hyunjae to lie beside Minho, she lets her husband touch her womb, which is not showing yet.

Hyunjae puts her hand on top of his, the mere touch of his skin immediately comforting him.

“Hey,” Hyunjae whispers. Outside, the ocean is loud, but it moves in a soothing rhythm. “I have something really stupid to ask.”

Minho lets out a small laugh. “No question is ever stupid.”

“Hm...how do you really feel like being married to me?” Hyunjae asks. She knows these questions are pointless, but being away from home and severing her ties to what she knew makes her doubt everything. Even Minho.

“What is this about?” Minho asks, confusion clearly laced in his voice.

“I mean...marriage in our family is all about duty,” Hyunjae continues, despite not wanting to. “What if this marriage is not–”

“My duty is to you and you alone,” Minho promises her. “I intend to fulfill it.”

Hyunjae feels tears prickle her eyes. Never did she think Minho will be this expressive of his heart.

“I know you may think that we might not last long or that once we’re in a new land, I’m going to leave you,” Minho says gently. “But you are all I have, and no price or any kind of grandeur will ever change that.”

Minho interlaces his fingers against hers. “You are my confidant, for all my life, for every ups and downs.”

Hyunjae smiles, remembering Minho’s shy voice reciting this exact line in their wedding.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said that,” Minho reassures her.

“I know,” Hyunjae murmurs. She turns to her side and leans her head on his shoulder.

~

In the ship, they meet Cho Kyuhyun, a doctor heading towards America as well. They are probably a few days away from arrival, and Hyunjae’s state is worsening. She is getting paler and weaker, to the point that she gets light-headed and needs Minho’s assistance when walking.

Hyunjae is feeling cold and sweaty under the heat of the sun, when suddenly she feels excruciating pain tearing through her lower abdomen. She falls and luckily Minho is there, and immediately he pulls her into his arms to carry her.

Cho Kyuhyun, luckily, is in the scene and approaches the panicked young couple.

“Minho,” Hyunjae whispers, her voice filled with fear. “Something is wrong. This is not right.”

“Hey, you two, it’s alright, I’m Kyuhyun, I’m a doctor,” Cho Kyuhyun approaches them, speaking in Korean.

Hyunjae and Minho look at him in surprise, then at each other.

“Do you guys...know Korean?” Kyuhyun inquiries kindly.

Hyunjae nods. “Arayo.” The two have been speaking in Japanese the whole time.

Minho narrows his eyes at Kyuhyun, studying his face and trying to find something that makes him suspicious.

Kyuhyun laughs uneasily and raises his hand. “I am a doctor. I won’t hurt you or your wife. Please let me take a look at her.”

Minho looks at Hyunjae’s pale face, and swallows. “Alright. But if you hurt her, I will throw you overboard.”

Kyuhyun nods, and he gestures for Minho to walk so that he can lead the way.

~

Kyuhyun examines Hyunjae, asking her questions to determine what can possibly be wrong. Minho had just finished his fifth lap around the ship when Kyuhyun had finished with a grim face.

Minho holds his wife’s hand tightly, and the two of them look at Kyuhyun in apprehension.

“Hyunjae’s pulse is weak,” Kyuhyun tells them. “I don’t have much on me that can figure out exactly what’s wrong, but right now, she needs rest. When we land, you two can stay with me until you can figure out where to start.”

Hyunjae catches the frown on Kyuhyun’s forehead. Growing up with people who had stoic faces, she knows how to read the smallest change in expression.

“What are you not telling us?” Hyunjae pushes.

Minho glances at her, worried.

Kyuhyun sighs. “Well.”

“Please tell us,” Minho reaffirms.

“I think it’s your baby,” Kyuhyun replies with great difficulty. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think this pregnancy is viable for long.”

Hyunjae bursts out in silent tears.

Kyuhyun presses his lips together. “I am so sorry.” He gets up to leave.

Minho leans towards Hyunjae and smooths her hair out of her sweaty forehead. He slides his arm under her head and holds her still like that until Hyunjae falls asleep from crying.

~

When they had arrived in San Francisco, and after filling up numerous paperworks, Kyuhyun rushed the young couple to the hospital to get Hyunjae examined. He is a man who has made a lot of medical accomplishments and he is almost right about everything, although this time, he wishes he was wrong. These two are so young, and he was even more shocked to find out that they are just teenagers. Although, where he came from, teenagers already led adult lives.

He just didn’t expect them to face such an early tragedy.

Life is so cruel sometimes.

He sees their strength shining through, with their small smiles and solid communication. It is better than most couples he’s seen. He can see how much they care about each other, and he hopes that in the near future, they will get everything they want.

~

On the other side of the world, in Mokpo, in the land where their king once sold them to another nation, Hyukjae is struck by the worst news that he has ever heard. It was a normal day. Hyukjae has taken up teaching children the Korean language again, and he just came home from a long day of tutoring kids, starting from the most basic characters when the news came, jarring and unearthing. Like a carpet was pulled under him.

Donghae is dead.

Hyukjae lets the three words sit in his mind, unable to process it completely. He still feels their last kiss licking flames against his lips. He feels Donghae’s warm hands on his body, his words and his rough way of speaking loud in his ears like a rushing waterfall. The sun is still rising in the sky. Donghae cannot be dead.

But here is Choi Siwon, haggard and growing a beard after weeks of pursuing endless leads. Behind him are a few men in their early twenties, probably his people based here in Mokpo.

Hyukjae stares at them, lost for words.

Donghae is dead.

Hyukjae mulls this sentence in his mind again, and before it can sit heavily in his heart, he is bursting into tears.

Donghae is gone. Just like that.

Like a wind passing through, his name is erased so quickly, like ashes.

Hyukjae looks up, and he sees the sun smiling at him.

“Donghae,” he murmurs sadly, after heaving out his pain. “You are now at rest.”

Hyukjae sits down, and he starts to write again.

~

Kyuhyun and another doctor tell Hyunjae and Minho the worst news that they have yet to hear.

It was not fitting for the weather outside. Outside, there is the sun and there are children playing in the streets and people riding trolleys and going about their business. The sea is calm and there is no storm brewing in the distance.

After spending countless hours in the hospital, it is confirmed.

“I want the two of you to know that miscarriages happen this early in pregnancies,” Kyuhyun gently tells them. “It could be stress and malnourishment, or it can also happen naturally, when your body rejects the embryo because it can’t hold on to life.”

Hyunjae nods glumly, hearing the words but not really hearing them. Kyuhyun leaves the young couple alone, his heart lurching for them.

Minho gives Hyunjae’s hand a reassuring squeeze, and he stares at the floor, or at the space between him and the floor in silence. He is at a loss too. Nothing could ever prepare the two of them for this. Not even those lessons with their tutors and their parents about life and business and studies of the arts.

He looks at his wife, sees the shadows passing over her thin and sickly face, then he looks back at the floor.

They need to just be. At this moment.

“Minho?” Hyunjae finally calls his name. It has been a while since he has heard her talk.

“Yes?” He answers quietly.

“We’re okay, right?” Hyunjae’s tears fall on their entwined hands.

Minho leans forward and he does his best to pull her into his arms. He plants a kiss on her temple and he holds her for a long time. “We’re okay.”

  
  
  


~

20 years later….

Hyunjae did not even want to acknowledge it. She didn’t want to believe the changes her body is going through for the past several weeks. She and Minho had made their peace that they did not have to bring children into this world, despite wanting to build their own family here in America. They were barely twenty back then, and the fact that they managed to get here on their own was a feat itself.

Back then, they did not know how to cope from the miscarriage and had put the trauma at the back of their minds. The two of them soon found work–Minho in the automobile factory and Hyunjae jumping from secretarial work and textile work. At that time, Hyunjae also felt so much shame that she was unable to carry on the pregnancy, and had felt so useless and bitter about what happened. She knows it is not her fault, but she really had no one to talk about it other than Minho, and at times, she feels like she is all alone in her plight as a woman. She didn't feel like she was suitable for Minho sometimes, and that she is not adequate enough for a wife.

She felt like a failure, so any more attempts with child-making was marred by her doubts and her feelings of ineptness. As if she, herself, can control every aspect of her body.

Discrimination in the land of dreams and opportunities also ran rampart. They were lumped into one category of race and got scorned upon. Their identities got buried, they were neither Japanese nor Korean anymore. It’s like this new country had stripped them everything that held them back to their origins. They can’t even say they are Americans either since the Americans discriminated against them and mocked them about their appearances and their accents.

Life is already hard enough.

Though the two of them kept going because they had each other.

  
  
  


The moment that Hyunjae accepted that she was pregnant again, she cut down on her hours of work and began consulting with Kyuhyun. She does not want to lose this growing child inside of her, but she also wants to wait a little bit longer to tell Minho. Just in case that this child is not meant to survive.

The long days turn into more weeks, and Hyunjae realizes that this time, her pregnancy will come through. She tries to find the proper time to tell the news to her husband of almost twenty-one years, but since Minho works late hours and comes home drunk, she could not get him alone with a sober presence.

Usually, she would tell off Minho and demand him to get it together, but these days, it is hard to reach him. Minho has always been a strong and supportive presence in her life, but Minho is also the type to keep to himself when something is troubling him. She tries to be patient and be there for him, but Minho shrugs her off and tells her that nothing is wrong.

She misses her cheerful husband, whose eyes always light up at the smallest things.

One night, Hyunjae couldn’t really wait any longer. This pregnancy is going strong, and she wants her husband to be happy with her. They will finally have a kid–something they have longed for but never dared to put in action.

She stays up longer than she needs to, and despite her heavy lids dropping to close her eyes, she powers through her drowsiness. She really just wants to see Minho, even for a second.

He finally arrives, his work boots dragging heavily across their floorboards.

Hyunjae immediately sits up and she walks towards Minho, watching him.

“Hey,” Hyunjae greets quietly.

Minho looked up, and his eyes swam, with something close to guilt and brokenness. Hyunjae has never seen him so ragged like this. It was a new sight for her. Even when he is going through the toughest of challenges, Minho has always looked strong.

“What’s wrong?” Hyunjae hesitates.

Minho sighs heavily, and he massages his forehead. “I have to tell you something.”

Hyunjae pauses, and without hesitation, she steps forward to grab her husband’s hand. “Minho...you’re scaring me.”

Minho’s hand inside her grip shook. “I should’ve told you...I should have….but I was so scared–”

Hyunjae stares into Minho’s eyes.

“My father found us years ago,” Minho whispers. “He informs us that your father….has died.”

Hyunjae almost collapses against Minho and she buries her face against his shoulder. Minho wraps her into his arms firmly, as sobs rocked Hyunjae’s body.

“It’s my fault…” Hyunjae cries. “Oh my god...I–what was I thinking?”

Minho rubs her back. “No, it’s not your fault, it isn’t, I promise.”

“What did your father want?” Hyunjae struggles to let out.

“Nothing...I thought he was going to take us back, but well, here we are.”

  
  
  


“Why didn’t you tell me, aho?!” Hyunjae snaps, and more tears flow out of her eyes. Her chest squeezed, making it hard to breathe, and she feels her heart hurt.

Minho pushes her back gently to meet her eyes. “I don’t know...I wanted to protect you.”

Hyunjae shakes her head, and she hits Minho’s chest with her fist. She hits him again, this time, out of sadness. “You never kept anything from me.”

Minho looks away in shame. “I know.” He bows his head. “And for that, I am deeply sorry.”

Hyunjae sighs heavily, feeling her world sway. She stumbles forward and Minho catches her to steady her. For a moment, they stood in silence in the same position, letting the news of Donghae and their marital disagreements sit over their heads.

“Minho,” Hyunjae finally utters. “I’m pregnant.”

Minho starts, his eyes opening wide and his mouth dropping. “What?”

Hyunjae begins to cry again, this time, even more violently. “I’m with child, Minho.” She tries to control her tears but they keep on coming. Where are these tears coming from? She hiccups, and wipes her tears hastily, but her body betrays her and she doubles over, hyperventilating.

Minho catches her again and the two of them slide down to the floor.

“Don’t you dare leave me,” Hyunjae whispers against his neck. “Don’t you dare die on me, either.”

Minho smoothes her dark hair away from her face. “I made a promise, didn’t I?”

My duty is to you and you alone, you are my life, my confidant.

Minho presses a kiss on her forehead. “We’re okay, right?”

Hyunjae closes her eyes. “Always.”

  
  
  


~

  
  
  


Eight months later, they named their newborn daughter Grace Eunae Choi.

She was a small, baby girl. A fragile thing, really. Minho can carry her with one arm because she is also very light. Thankfully, the labor went smoothly and after a few days in the hospital on Minho’s insistence (and much to Hyunjae’s chagrin), they were able to take Eunae home.

Their apartment is small, only fit to house one person. It is a huge contrast to the home that the two of them grew up in. Their home was big and full of attendants both seen and in the shadows. They didn’t have to worry about bills or preserving food so that they will make it to the next day.

Now, they are throwing in another person into their own chaos. A tiny human, at that.

They keep their contact with Siwon minimal. They have not even told him about Eunae. Hyunjae has not even talked with her mother for a long time. She didn’t really want to know or learn what is happening to the family that she left behind in Osaka. Most of all, she also misses Hyukjae, and she wonders how her father’s death has affected him. Has he moved on after all these years? Has he died?

There really is no way of knowing, unless they go there themselves. Which...Hyunjae does not want to. She wants to move on, not unearth old scars and hurts.

And there is Eunae, who is their new hope for this generation.

They want to do right by her, and not burden her with a fate that she should have the chance to choose for her own.

~

The girl with the long and the silkiest hair among the crowd, shrugs her coat tighter to herself, and buries her chin deeper into her scarf. It is now late February, but winter still pervades and the air is chilly. However, the blossoming of spring cannot be tricked, and hence, the sakura cherry blossom trees that line parallel by the riverside are budding.

Grace Eunae Choi walks this path everyday to her university.

Eunae loves routine. She prides herself on discipline since that is the way she was raised, and through discipline and strict work ethic, she is able to be at the top of all of her classes and get awarded the most prestigious scholarships that can be offered to her. After getting her bachelor’s degree, she decided that she wanted to advance her education further through a graduate program that focuses solely on history and anthropology.

It didn’t really occur to her that she will end up back in the city where her parents were born, but she is curious so without telling her parents, she applied for a university in Osaka, Japan. She knows that she put her parents through quite a lot of shock, but well, Eunae is her own person too.

She has lived her life with her parents hovering over her, pushing her to be the best, and invading her sense of autonomy. Now, she is free.

Besides, her parents can always follow her here. If they want to. It’s about time they make amends with their family. Not that she knows a lot about them. She hasn’t even tried, because even now, her parents’ imposing rules still lie heavily inside her, ingrained like it’s been programmed into her every cell.

Obedience is important. She knows that too well.

Her boots clack against the pavement, and the cold breeze flies by her. Her eyes didn’t land anywhere in particular, but at last they landed on a person in front of her. At the last minute, Eunae could not help herself. It was as if the wind itself carried her towards this person, moving her legs forward so that she bumps into him.

Eunae lets out an undignified squawk. “Sumimasen!” She half-shouts.

Onlookers glance at them.

The guy she bumped into chuckles softly, and helps her up. “I should be the one who’s sorry.”

Eunae bites her lower lip and pushes the stray hair behind her ear. Her eyes quickly find his, like a magnet. It is a strong pull, and she finds that she cannot look away.

The man breaks out into an angelic smile, one that stirs Eunae’s heart. Suddenly, the cold air seems warmer, and the sun seems to peek out of its hiding places.

“I’m Nakamoto Yuta,” he introduces himself.

A blush creeps across Eunae’s face.

“My name Eunae Choi,” she replies, and she cannot help reflecting the same bright smile.

By the end of spring, where the cherry blossoms are bright pink and many, Eunae and Yuta are in a relationship.

Five years later, they are engaged to be married, out of their own will and with their parents’ blessings.

Five years later, Hyunjae and Minho come home and they make peace with their roots.

  
  
  



	10. Epilogue: 2005, South Korea

After retelling the past and revealing their ties to each other, Eunae and Hyukjae sat across each other in silence for a while. Eunae is staring at Hyukjae, a hundred questions racing through her mind, but she finds that the silence is needed for more contemplation. She sets down the papers and the folders that she brought with her on the floor carefully, and then, she looks at the window Hyukjae is staring at.

  


Eunae is not really sure what he is watching, but then, she sees that he is watching the cherry blossom trees outside.

She looks down at her hands, unsure how to speak to Hyukjae. It’s not like she has known him all her life.

“It must be shocking to you, to hear my story,” Hyukjae finally says and he turns to Eunae.

  
  


Hyukjae studies her face a little bit longer and a gentle smile spreads across his lips. “You really look like him, in some ways.”

Eunae drums her fingers on her lap. “Why haven’t I known you, or met you?” She blurts out.

Hyukjae propels his wheelchair forward. “I asked Siwon that he keeps me a secret from you and your family.”

“Why?” Eunae asks, her lips unconsciously forming into a small pout.

Hyukjae chuckles, suddenly reminded of Donghae’s face when he is scowling. “Well, child. I think I just didn’t want to impose. We carry a hundred years’ worth of pain. The younger generation do not have to follow in our footsteps.”

Eunae shakes her head. “But...I want to know. This is my family’s history.”

Hyukjae nods glumly. “Times have changed, hm?”

  
  


Hyukjae looks at Eunae again, and after telling her everything, he feels at peace. It’s like someone had finally pulled him out of a long slumber.

Even now, Donghae keeps saving him.

“I want you to meet my fiance!” Eunae exclaims. “I’ll come back tomorrow!”

Hyukjae finds it easier to express his excitement. “I’ll be glad to receive your presence tomorrow as well.”

Eunae takes a deep breath, and she stands up from her seat. “Um, these are for you.”

She picks up the ancient papers from the ground and hands them to Hyukjae. “Apparently, my grandfather stole a lot of your writing.”

Hyukjae reaches for them carefully, and when Eunae has left, he begins to go through them, and this time, only choosing to relive his happiest moments with Donghae. Time is a gift too, he realizes. He has waited for the love of his life until now, but in a blink of an eye, it has passed him by.

A moment is forever, a moment with Donghae transcends a thousand years, but to someone else’s eyes, it could be mere seconds. Time is relative, Hyukjae realizes, but every minute leading to now seems to count. Every minute must count. To someone, their life is a whole race to that one bright moment. Every decision counts towards that fleeting future and anything that comes after is uncertain.

Null.

Although, life is funny like that. It gives and it gives, and then it stops.

And starts again.

Just like this moment with Eunae, just like how easy it was for him to fall for Donghae.

She brings their story to a close, but so long as she carries on, their memories and their love will never die. It simply is impossible for them to get written off from history.

Hyukjae closes his eyes, and he smiles wistfully.

Live, Eunae, he thinks, his hands gently tracing the old lines of his and Donghae’s writing. Do what we couldn’t do for each other. Love, and love even more.

~

The drive to her grandfather’s house was slow, mostly because it had started pouring. When Eunae rolls up to a stop in the driveway, she stays inside her car. She stares up at the house ahead, thinking of what to say to her grandfather and her fiance. Her heart swells from sadness because she truly feels for Hyukjae and for what he has lost, but she is also happy, because she is a product of all of their love and their worst moments.

  
  


Earlier, she learns that after Donghae’s death, Hyukjae had taken up teaching children again and writing poems. She makes a mental note to look for his work later. She also learned that his friend, Jungsoo, had died just a few years back.

It seems like Hyukjae had only held out this long to look for some kind of closure.

Eunae delivered just that.

She wonders how her parents would feel about the prospect of meeting Hyukjae. She hopes that they would reconnect and catch up on lost time, or maybe Hyukjae really chose to bury their ties to spare them.

A shadow approaches her window, and she starts.

It is Yuta, holding a big umbrella. Fat drops of rain rolled down its surface and onto her window. Eunae grins, and she opens the door to step out.

“How was it?” Yuta asks her, immediately pulling her closer to him.

Eunae welcomes his warmth, and she buries her face into his neck. She sighs, and then, tears start to roll down her face. She feels Yuta’s hand on her back, firm and comforting.

“I love you,” Eunae whispers, and she holds on to him a little bit tighter. “So, let’s not wait any longer.”

  
  


~

  
  


Hyunjae pushes Hyukjae forward in his wheelchair, her heart thundering against her chest. It has been so long since she has seen her uncle. The last time she had talked to him was through a telephone, where she told him of her first pregnancy.

Their walk is quiet, despite the celebration going on around them.

The two of them are dressed in traditional Korean clothes, the colors of yellow and red in a delicate pattern.

From their spot, they can see Eunae in a white wedding dress, with her arm around her new husband, posing for the cameramen. Hyukjae smiles softly. He has lived long enough to attend a happy wedding, where two people are brought together for life.

“She is a beautiful child, Hyunjae,” Hyukjae comments.

  
  


Hyunjae reaches over and clutches his hand. “I have missed you, oji.”

Hyukjae squeezes her hand. “I have, as well.”

Hyunjae looks at her uncle, old and withered, but his spirit is still strong, persevering, despite the calm air he always wears.

“I miss him,” Hyunjae murmurs.

“We will always miss him,” Hyukjae chuckles, trying to hold back his tears.

A soft, warm breeze flows by, rustling the green leaves of summer. Birds chirp overhead, singing like they are also celebrating along with Eunae and Yuta.

~

“Should you really be out here walking?” Hyukjae inquires with concern.

Today is no different than the other days. Often, Eunae and Yuta come by to keep him company and take him to daily walks outside the nursing home. Spring is once again in full bloom, and their path is covered by cherry blossom trees. Pink petals fall all around them, and the air is thick and warm and smells of grass and something sweet like caramel.

Eunae rolls her eyes. “I’m pregnant, grandfather, not sick.”

Hyukjae stares straight ahead. “Alright, but we should head back before it starts to get hotter.”

“Aw!” Eunae protests.

“Fine, fine, let’s enjoy the view for now,” Hyukjae relents.

Eunae grins. “I think I’m going to have a boy!”

“Is that so?”

Eunae shrugs. “Yuta bets we’re going to have a daughter, though.”

  
  


Hyukjae chuckles. “Nevertheless, your child will be loved.”

“I hope so,” Eunae says, glancing down at her huge belly.

“I guess that’s our cue,” Hyukjae calmly states.

Up ahead, Yuta waits for them by the entrance of the nursing home, his hair swept back handsomely. He has a hand around a wicker basket, probably carrying copious amounts of snacks.

Eunae giggles. “I hope they take after their father.”

Hyukjae chuckles. He turns slowly and puts his wrinkled and sun-spotted hand over Eunae's hand.

“How about you send me to my room first, and I let you two catch up?” Hyukjae suggests.

Eunae frowns. “But we’re going to have lunch with you.”

“I need a moment. It’s getting really hot.”

“Alright.”

Yuta hands her the basket and takes over the wheelchair. He pushes Hyukjae through the hallway and into his room, and then he promises to get him after an hour. Then, he and Eunae head towards the cafeteria, deciding that it really is too hot of a day to be out.

While walking, Eunae places Yuta’s hand on her womb.

Yuta glances down, and then he almost jumps out of his skin when he feels a tiny nudge against his palm.

“Felt that?” Eunae exclaims, almost yelling.

Yuta gasps and they stop walking. He kneels down and puts his ear against his wife’s womb again.

“Oh my god!” Yuta plants a kiss on her womb and stares up at Eunae with love.

“Yeah!” Eunae chokes out, almost tearing up at the sight.

~

Eunae enters Hyukjae’s room later, after eating lunch with her husband, and immediately notices how calm and blue the room is. There is no sound, except for the branches of the tree outside Hyukjae’s room scraping the surface of the window.

“Grandfather?” Eunae calls quietly, just in case he had fallen asleep.

She walks forward, and gently places her hand on Hyukjae’s shoulder. It is completely slack.

Eunae bursts out in a sob, and she lowers herself on the floor with great difficulty.

“Grandfather?” She calls again.

But there is no response.

Hyukjae is smiling peacefully, there are no more lines of weariness on his face, in a long slumber he had been waiting for.

Eunae grabs his hand, and presses a kiss on it.

“You go,” she whispers to Hyukjae. “You can finally meet him.”

Eunae closes her eyes, and she cries silently.

_He walks on a flower road,_

_Despite the rocks on the ground,_

_Despite the people that will pass him by,_

_Moving onto another road none the wiser,_

_He will walk and he will tread,_

_Flowers will bloom and this path will narrow,_

_If he dares to look behind,_

_There are footsteps beside his that had stopped walking a long time ago._

He walks on a flower road, and this time, the one he loves is right beside him, his hand in his and his shoulder pressing against him.

He walks on a long, winding flower road, and this time, the wait is over.

END.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this story has some original characters and some NCT members! I hope it did not deter you away. We will get to the EunHae part on the next following chapters, as Lee Hyukjae travels down memory lane and they are, of course, the main story. This fic is going to travel across three generations, each one showing how time is changing. Also, the next following chapters may be SUPER long. lols. I'm challenging myself.
> 
> Thank you for reading.
> 
> This is also available on AFF.
> 
> Find me on Twitter: @av_versiera


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